24
by BuryTheHatchet
Summary: A lot can change in 24 months. Lives can be lost, new ones can be created. Friendships can grow and evolve. Families can morph and change. Things can go wrong, but they can also go right. Two years is a long time... My 50th NCIS fiction, as promised! Yay!
1. Chapter One

**It is here, it is here, the one we have all been waiting for! My 50** **th** **NCIS fiction. It probably is not as good as I have hyped it up to be, but I quite like it.**

 **So I was watching 'The Object of My Affection' with Paul Rudd and Jennifer Aniston and this sort of…happened. It is for once more based on Tony's feelings for Ziva than Ziva's feelings for Tony. Or at least it is in the beginning. I thought I would give it a shot.**

 **It is in the format that I had originally intended for It Takes Two, with a couple of chapters set each month. I did my best to get the dates correct, but if there are a couple of errors then it is completely my fault.**

 **I have bent the timeline of the actual series a bit. We start in 2007, but that means that we have to imagine Bury Your Dead had happened slightly later than it did, because this starts around five months after that, which would mean that Bury Your Dead happened in February, not September. And I want Internal Affairs to have already happened, so that probably happened around the time that it actually did. Sorry for all the messing around with the timeline, I am using artistic licence.**

Chapter One

 ** _Friday, June 15_** ** _th_** ** _2007_**

He couldn't help but stare. He was infatuated. _She's beautiful and she doesn't even notice_. She was just sat there, typing away at her computer, _tap-tap-tapping the keys_. His desk gave him the perfect view of her. Her dark hair curled around her face, like it was trying to shield her from the external world – not that she needed shielding from anything. She was Ziva David, fearless Mossad officer, all-powerful and all-scary.

But there was something different about her. There had been for the past month or so, he just couldn't pinpoint it. She was still beautiful – more so, if possible, and yet he couldn't figure it out. She was radiant. No, she was glowing. _Glowing? Why does that ring a bell?_

 _Glowing…glowingglowingglowingglowingglowing…GLOWING!_ His jaw dropped and his feet fell off his desk as he tumbled out of his chair. He quickly pulled himself to be the correct way up and sat back down, brushing himself off and looking around to check that he had not been noticed by anyone. He turned back to look at Ziva and frowned. _No…she can't be. She's not seeing anyone. Is she? No, she would have said something. But what if…? Means there's a guy…_

 _Well, duh, DiNozzo. God, why is it you're an investigator again?_

The part of his mind that he spent so much of his time blocking out was running through a series of thoughts that went something along the lines of:

 _It's not mine. She's pregnant and it's not mine._

 _Well of course it's not you fool! Did you ever once think about telling her about all of your feelings?_

 _Obviously I thought about it – I just knew that it would just ruin a good friendship. She doesn't feel the same way, and this is my proof._

 _Well then, what are you complaining about?_

 _It's not mine._

 _Yes, we've been through that, can we move on to the next thought?_

 _She's pregnant._

 _Hey, maybe she's not. Maybe I'm just fantasising…_

 _Nope, she really has that whole glowy thing going on._

 _Well, maybe she's just using a new moisturiser…yeah, right, stupid suggestion._

 _So this is it then. The end of the world._

 _No, idiot, just the end of an impossibility._

 _Can you have an end to an impossibility? Particularly an impossibility that never actually had a start. Something can't have an end without having a start, can it…_

 _Now you're just getting too deep…especially for a Friday…_

"Zee-Vah?" He tossed a scrunched up ball of paper at her, smiling as she caught it without even looking.

"Yes, Tony?" She looked at him. There was something hidden in her eyes. _Could it be fear?_

 _No, Ziva doesn't know the meaning of fear, or at least doesn't feel it._

 _So how do you know what it would look like in her eyes, clever guy?_

 _What does she have to be afraid of anyway?_

 _Apart from a kid, which is something that does deserve a little fear._

 _But still…this is Ziva. Ziva isn't scared of anything._

"Tony!"

"Hm?"

"You said my name."

"I did? Oh, I did." He sorted through his thoughts. _Why do I want to talk to her again? Apart from her being Ziva and, you know, talk-to-able, with that voice, and those eyes…so intense and…scared? Oh, right, pregnant. Ziva. Baby. Talk._ "Er, yeah. Can we, er, I mean, I need to, well, I want to…er, no, we need…no, I need…oh, um, I, er, well, you…"

"Spit it out, Tony."

"Hey, you got one right!" He grinned. _Pregnant. Ziva. Baby. Talk._ His smile faded. "Look, can we go talk somewhere?"

"We are talking now. Why can we not talk here?"

"Because I really don't think what I want to talk to you about is something you would want to talk about in the squad room." He bit his bottom lip. She frowned but stood up and walked slowly to the men's room, letting him follow at his own pace as soon as he had realised she wasn't there to keep babbling on to about why he wanted to talk to her without actually ever saying why he wanted to talk to her.

"Why am I standing in the men's room and not finishing my report right now, Tony?"

"Because I know."

"You know what?" She snorted, wondering if he had finally gone round the corner. _Corner? Turn? It definitely is not 'world'. Round the…Round the…Bend!_ She was wondering if he had finally gone round the bend!

 _Or maybe he has just become more observant all of a sudden?_

 _Shut up!_ She smothered the little, taunting voice in the back of her head.

"I know about the baby." He blurted.

"What baby, Tony?" She visibly paled. _Definitely more observant. Wait, how can he know? You do not even know yet!_ "Have you been drinking?"

"No, Ziva. You're pregnant, aren't you?"

"No. What makes you think I am?" She turned away slightly, making her voice sound aloof.

"You're all glowy."

"I am all glowy?" She repeated sceptically, a frown creasing her face.

"Yeah. And you look…scared. Not that you are scared…I mean, I would forgive you if you were…not that I'm upset or angry or anything because you're scared, or that you need my forgiveness for being scared, or any forgiveness really for being scared, which you're not, but if you were…I wouldn't be…" He trailed off, repeating his words in his head and physically flinching when he heard them. "Sorry. Look, I just want to make sure you're alright, you know, have someone to help you and stuff, not that I think that you'd have chosen a bad guy to father your child, not that I think you chose the guy for the specific reason of having a kid…or that you have a bad choice in men…I just want you, my friend, to be okay." He stood and nodded awkwardly.

"There is a box…in the top drawer of my desk. It contains two home pregnancy tests. I was going to take them yesterday, but I could not." She leaned back against the wall and exhaled slowly, puffing her cheeks out and staring at the floor. Tony looked at his watch.

"Come on. Go get them from your desk."

"What?!"

"I'm gonna take you home. I'll stay with you for moral support. If that's what you want, of course, I mean..."

"Tony, it is midday."

"I'll tell Gibbs you have a stomach bug and I'm gonna take you home and look after you. I wanna be a good friend, Ziva."

"You already are." She smiled slightly. "Thank you."

* * *

He looked at his watch and groaned. "We've got three minutes left. You know, I don't understand why they make the wait so long, because it just stresses expectant mothers out, and that's not good for you or the baby." He watched as she crossed over to where he was sat on the end of her bed. She had placed the two tests on the edge of the sink whilst they sat the long wait.

"Tony, the wait is that long because that is how long the test takes."

"But with all that technology, surely they could make it a shorter wait. I mean, pregnant women get stressed enough as it is, why do they need to make life even more stressful for you."

"If you group me with pregnant women and expectant mothers once more, Tony, or suggest that the stress is not good for me, I will personally make sure that you never have to feel this stress again. Are we understood?"

"Yeah." He gulped and nodded.

"Besides. I may not even be pregnant." She looked hopefully at him. He just smiled sadly back.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"I guess I have to." She sat next to him and stared intently at the floor.

"No, not if you don't…"

"Tony, I have to." She sighed. "I was at the bar with everyone, and McGee and Abby had been called into work, and Palmer and Lee had disappeared off somewhere and it was just me and Ducky."

"Dear Lord, please tell me it's not Ducky's?" He smirked, receiving a thump to the arm. "I deserved that." He grinned before his smile faded, dropping with the mood. "Where was I?"

"Not there." She refused to meet his gaze. "Ducky had offered me a lift home. Actually, he said he would not take no for an answer, but in the end I convinced him that I would catch a cab. I wanted to drink and have meaningless sex with the first guy who offered and forget about everything." She ran a hand through her hair, frowning slightly when she saw Tony's jaw tighten out of the corner of her eyes. "I sat at the bar and got very, very drunk. There was a guy was sat at the opposite end of the bar and he had been watching, so I decided – he looked okay, what the hell. I staggered over and told him my master plan – more alcohol and a very forgettable one-night stand. And he said he would take me home. I thought he meant to carry out my 'master plan' but when we turned up at my apartment he tucked me into bed, gave me a glass of water and slept on the sofa. He reminded me of you in that way. He would never have taken advantage of my drunken state. And I guess that is what I liked about him. His name was Matthew. I think you would have liked him. He was a Marine, deployed to Iraq last month. Their convoy drove over an IED on their third day there. No survivors."

"I'm sorry." Tony placed a hand on her shoulder. "I really am." And he was, although he wasn't certain what he was sorry for, whether it be her loss, the fact that she may or may not be pregnant, or that he hadn't been there.

"It is not like it was true love or anything. It was just nice to come home and have someone to talk to, you know, without having to worry that it will stray into the territory of work. And the sex was not too bad either." She grinned.

"Okay, I'm here for moral support. I do not need to know the ins and outs of how this happened." He shook his head as she smirked before her face fell.

"How long left?"

"A minute and a half." He smiled sympathetically as she flopped back onto the bed and covered her face with her hands.

"I do not want anything to change. I want to be me, and I cannot be me if I am pregnant, or caring for a child." Her voice was muffled.

"If we didn't have change then we would all still be bacteria and amoeba and stuff. Change can be good."

"And it can be bad."

"Yeah." He sighed, not having an answer to that one. How could he deny it if he believed it? He took one of her hands in his. "But hey, you might not be pregnant. And if you are, then I'll be here for you. I can be whoever you want me to be. I could be cool Uncle Tony." He nodded, imagining it.

"I shall have to think about it. I am not sure I want you corrupting any child of mine." She said in mock seriousness.

"You wound me, Ziva." He clutched at his heart then looked down at his watch. "Time's up."

"Can you look at it for me?"

"No."

"What?! Tony, you are supposed to be here to help me!"

"And I wish I could, but I'm kinda nervous."

"You?! You are nervous?! You are not the one who is about to find out if in nine months you are going to be holding a child in your arms with the inability to hand it back to its parents after ten minutes!"

"Okay, I think I see your point, I just think you might want to look at it yourself first, you know, to compose yourself. I don't want to give you bad news. I don't want to hurt you. That's all."

"Please?" And that's all it took. The simple utterance of one word in one heart wrenching tone of voice and he was in the en suite looking at the result and wondering if he should find some more protective clothing before telling her.

* * *

"Tony, stop staring!" Ziva snapped as she lay on her back on her living room floor. He was laying perpendicular to her on his front, his chin propped on his palm as he stared at her stomach.

"But it's brilliant! There's a tiny little life in there. Don't you think it's amazing?"

"No, Tony. Quite honestly, at this moment I do not find it amazing. Right at this minute I find it a bloody big inconvenience!" She hadn't meant to be so harsh, but his excitability was grating on her nerves. "I cannot be a mother and work. Oh, God! My father is going to kill me. And probably you too."

"He won't…Wait. Why's he gonna kill _me_?!" Tony looked at her face.

"The whole of Mossad has some strange notion that we are sleeping together." She sounded so blasé; as if it were common knowledge that they were in some sort of sexual relationship that he himself was unaware of.

"Be kind, rewind. What are you talking about?"

"Back when Gibbs left, you started visiting my apartment, yes?"

"Yeah. But nothing happened." _Not that I didn't want it to._

"Well, my father had been having me 'observed'. Some photographs were taken. Just you regularly entering my place, me taking your hand, flirting, you remember?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "But wait, that was ages ago."

"That phone call to my Aunt Nettie you hijacked? She wanted to know why she was not invited to the wedding. I managed to convince her that we were not married, but she said that your tone of voice implied that we were at least sleeping together. And of course, if anyone in my family, or Tel Aviv for that matter, wants gossip, they go to Nettie, and she is more than happy to supply."

"Well, can't you correct them?"

"No. No point in trying. They will not believe me." She shook her head. "You have never met my family, Tony, nor do you want to."

"Oh, I don't know. I think I would."

"No, Tony. Trust me." She brought her knees up and folded her hands behind her head. "What is Gibbs going to say to all of this?"

"I think he'll understand. Might even smile." He chuckled, making her laugh slightly. "When are you gonna tell him?"

"I do not know." She sighed and shook her head, taking one of his hands in hers. "He will figure it out."

"Ziva, you need to tell him. He has to know. What happens if something goes wrong in the field and he still doesn't know?"

"I will tell him in a week. I just need some time to think about it."

"Okay. You promise you'll tell him though?"

"Of course." She smiled, squeezing his hand.

"Ziva, you know I'll be here for you, don't you?"

"You know that you do not have to worry about me?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then there is your answer."

* * *

Ziva stirred as the menu screen of From Russia With Love played repeatedly on the small flat-screen. Tony had gotten it for a reasonable price for her from his neighbour, after he declared that not having a television was the reason why she was so uneducated when it came to American culture, and so it was therefore his job as her friend to teach her about America in the only way he knew how. That had been when Gibbs had left, and the TV was only ever used when he was round. Her eyes fluttered open and she twisted slightly, suddenly noticing that the dead-weight of Tony's arm was pressing down on her shoulder. She carefully eased herself out from where she was nestled into his side, his arm wrapped protectively around her, and turned the TV off, silence descending on her living room, disturbed only by the quiet snores that Tony was emitting. She carefully padded around her apartment, looking into each of the rooms as if she had never been into any of them before, as if she had not lived there for the past few years.

It suddenly felt a lot smaller than it had done when she moved into the apartment paid for by her father. When she had arrived, the kitchen had seemed large, and so had the lounge and the bedroom. The bathroom had appeared big as well, and at first she had worried that she would never be able to fill it all on her own. But now she had, and all of a sudden she had to think about fitting a baby in as well. The realisation that everything was going to change hit her like a tonne of bricks, and it felt as if she had been winded as she slipped down to sit on the floor, leaning against the door frame between the kitchen and her living room. She cradled her head in her hands and looked over to where Tony was snoozing on her couch. Her heart melted at the sight and she felt immediately calmer, just by knowing that for now he was there.

He had been the reason she had stayed at the bar in the first place. He had blown the team – her – off, again, for Jeanne, and she had been angry and disappointed and upset. So she had stayed at the bar after Ducky had left and gotten even more drunk and searched for something, or someone, to help her forget him, if only for the night. And then Matthew had happened – she had spoken the truth earlier, it would never have been true love, but they had both liked being able to see someone who almost understood them, if only on the surface. It had lasted four months, longer than most relationships she had managed to maintain, but then he had gone to Iraq, and not returned.

She stood up carefully, suddenly aware that there was a life growing inside of her and her ruthless lifestyle was going to have to drastically change, and walked to her small linen cupboard, where she removed a blanket and a spare pillow. She took the bedding and walked over to Tony, where he still lay sleeping on the couch, as oblivious to her feelings towards him as he always had been. She froze when he grunted slightly and shifted, but relaxed when she realised that he had actually rolled over and settled further into her sofa, his feet now hanging off one end and his arms dangling off the side. She couldn't help but chuckle silently at the way he had easily made himself at home; it was in his nature. After a moment of watching him sleep, admiring the childlike innocence that replaced the charming yet cocky expression that was nearly always etched into his face, she slipped the pillow under his head and covered him with the blanket as well as she could, knowing that she would never be able to find a blanket big enough to cover all of his extremities. She knelt down beside his head and sighed sadly, tracing a finger over his features. She had always hoped for a chance, a possibility that they could maybe have a future together at some point, but now that chance was gone, lost to another man's child, ruined by her own impatience and anger. She ran a hand through his hair and pressed her lips softly to his forehead, whispering a quiet goodnight before turning off the lights and making her way to bed, her mind focused fully on the child growing inside of her and the man sleeping peacefully on her couch.

 **I really like writing as the little voice in Tony's head. It is funny. And it makes a change from me focusing more so on Ziva's thoughts. Although, we are still going to see some more of Ziva's point of view.**

 **I started writing this quite a while ago, and I hope that by the time I have uploaded this first chapter I will have the story completely written up. I also hope that there will be 24 chapters in total. I realise now that since I have only written ten chapters up, I still have a long way to go. It is mid February 2016 as I write this Author's note, so I wonder how long it will be until this is actually uploaded. I know it will definitely be sometime in the future. Hello future! What is it like compared to what it was like when I wrote this?**

 **Okay. I am uploading this today, November 13th 2016. I have all but three chapters complete, and they are the penultimate three, so I have plenty of time to complete them. I do not actually know how frequently I will update this, since I already have the chapters written up. Maybe once every week or so? I do not know. I am still continuing with It Takes Two, but I have been spending an awful lot of time doing this and not that, so I still need to start the next chapter. I think I will finish off the three that need finishing for this first thought.**

 **UPDATE: I have just broken the last block up on the recommendations of someone who commented as a guest. Sorry, I tend to forget that it is not so easy to read when it is in a large block of text like that. I guess I have just gotten used to reading large blocks of text over the years, due to work and text books through the years that I did my A-levels (trust me, the authors of philosophy text books do not know the meaning of the word paragraph) and I forget also that FanFiction has a different font and size to what I use on Word, so it is more difficult. I will try and remember for the future.**

 **For my reference: 50th NCIS fic (Who would have guessed?)**


	2. Chapter Two

**I want to promise everyone now that there is going to be a whole load of TIVA. I promise. Just hold out for a few more chapters.**

 **So, I was watching season 10 episodes the other day, and it struck me that the filming in later seasons, but particularly 10, seems to be slightly over exposed, the saturation seems to be lower than in earlier seasons and the lighting seems to be off. I do not know if it is just me that is noticing that, but everything seems kind of washed out. I do no know what the crew have their standard settings on, but if it were me, I would go back to using the setup they had been for the earlier seasons. The images just do not seem as rich in colour as they did in earlier seasons. It might just be me though.**

Chapter Two

 ** _Saturday, June 23_** ** _rd_** ** _2007 – 11 weeks_**

"Ziva!" Tony ran over, dropping to his knees by her side.

"I am fine, Tony. I just tripped over and fell."

"This is what I'm talking about, things going wrong in the field." He rolled the leg of her trouser up so he could inspect her ankle. Gibbs ran around the corner, followed not so closely by McGee.

"It is just bruised. I am fine." She sighed and rolled her eyes as he flicked his gaze to her stomach.

"Nothing else…hurting or wrong or anything?"

"Tony. I am fine." She growled.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing Gibbs. I tripped over." She smiled and stood up, ignoring the pain that splintered through her ankle.

"That all?" Their boss raised his eyebrows. He had noticed the path of Tony's sight, along with his questions.

"Yes. That is all." She walked over to the car.

"You still haven't told him, have you?" Tony whispered in her ear. "Your week was up yesterday."

"Tony, you have no part in this. Whether I tell Gibbs or not is none of your business." She hissed back, keeping her face away from Gibbs so he couldn't lip read.

"I'm trying to keep you and your baby safe. And I am doing that because…because you are my friend, my best friend." He looked at her, trying to get through to her.

"Hey! You two wanna get in the car or do you wanna share whatever it is that seems so important with the rest of us?!"

"Getting in the car, Boss." They both climbed in and maintained a tense silence for the entire journey back to the Navy Yard.

"McGee, go down to Abby, organise the evidence. Tony, Ziva, my office."

"Gibbs, it is only me who you want to talk to. Tony has no part in this." Ziva said as all four agents walked back to the NCIS building.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is." She stopped in front of him. "Tony knows of what you are wanting to talk about, but it does not concern him."

"Fine. DiNozzo, go write up the report." Gibbs grumbled, stalking towards the elevator. Ziva followed, standing next to him and waiting for the inevitable jolt of the stopping carriage. They stayed silent for a moment after the emergency lights flickered on. "How far along are you?"

"Two and a half months by my calculations." She kept her eyes forwards as he studied her face.

"Father?"

"Dead."

"Oh, heck, Ziva, you didn't kill him, did you?"

"No!" She yelled at him. "No, he was killed in Iraq."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." He looked down.

"No, you most certainly should not have." She said quietly, threatening.

"I needed to know that there would not be an investigation involving you as a suspect." He paused and focused on her face, considering how to ask the question he was most desperate for an answer to. "What's DiNozzo's role?"

"He has no role but as a friend. 'Moral support' he says. He tried to cook me dinner last night and nearly burnt my apartment down." She sniggered. "He is just a friend. You do not have to worry about your precious rule twelve." There was a hint of bitterness in her voice, but Gibbs ignored it.

"Go down to Ducky. Get your ankle checked out. Tell him about the baby. I'll need to talk to the director about this."

"Thank you." She nodded and waited for the elevator doors to open at Autopsy, smiling when he laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. It was as much of a congratulation as she was going to get.

* * *

"Jethro. How are you?" Jenny smiled without looking up. He was the only person who waltzed into her office unannounced.

"Ziva. She's pregnant."

"DiNozzo's?"

"No." Jenny's head snapped up at this. "I thought it would be." He gave a shrug.

"You were worried about rule twelve." She turned back to her work, almost echoing Ziva's earlier words.

"I wasn't worried about it." He said quietly and she spun to look at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Forget I said anything."

"No, tell me."

"It means that I'm surprised that it's _not_ DiNozzo's baby." He sighed. "I wouldn't be upset if it were."

"You were rooting for them, weren't you?" The Director smirked.

"I wouldn't put it like that Jen, but he loves for her, and she at least cares for – if not loves – him, even if she doesn't know how to express it. You saw her last year, whilst DiNozzo was on the mission." He sat down in the chair opposite her desk and sighed. "I don't know, Jen. Do you think my rules got in the way? Do you think they could have been happy together?"

"What does your gut say?"

"My gut says they could have."

"I think you need a new rule, Jethro. 'Go with your gut.'"

"That one's sort of covered." He shrugged.

"But not fully. Normally you are happy to go with your gut. Why not this time?"

"Because I don't want history to repeat itself. I've got a good team. I have good dynamics…"

"Jethro, that's all going to change now; Ziva's going to be a mother, which changes things – she may not even want to work any more, or at least not full time. Tony's feelings for her are either going to get stronger or fade, and I'm placing all bets on the former. Change is inevitable."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it." He grumbled like a petulant child.

"No, but it does mean you have to accept it. It's the way life works."

"Should I dissolve rule 12, Jenny, or is it too late for them?"

"Make an exception for them. Tell DiNozzo he gets one chance, and to take it at the right time. Don't tell Ziva. She won't like to hear about it now. She'll think she's ruined it and you'll just make it worse." She advised. In all honesty, she had never seen Leroy Jethro Gibbs look so torn. He stood up and looked like he was going to say something, reconsidering and turning away, letting the door slam behind him.

* * *

"DiNozzo."

"Er, yeah, Boss?"

"I wanna talk to you."

"Boss, I was gonna take Ziva home."

"I can take myself home, it is fine." She smiled, collecting her bag and heading to the elevator.

"Okay. I'll come round when I'm done? I'll bring pizza." She nodded and Gibbs watched her leave before steering Tony in the direction of the rear elevator. "What's this about?"

"Tony, I want you to know that I trust you."

"I know, boss."

"And Ziva trusts you."

"I know."

"You love her, don't you?"

"Well, I wouldn't quite put it like that. I mean, I would, just not to her face, because, you know, I would probably not have a face to speak of after that. And also it's kinda weird just going up to a friend, a pregnant friend no less, and telling her I love her. I don't think she'd take it too well. And there are of course rules. I mean, there's not one that says specifically 'never love a co-worker', but there is one that says 'never date a co-worker' and so, yeah…"

"DiNozzo, if my rules had never existed, would you have ever, you know, asked her out?"

"Ha, no. That's funny, Boss." He just laughed.

"Why?"

"Well, sure, I have all these feelings for her, but I'm me. I'd just screw it all up, and I wouldn't want to waste what we have as friends. A long lasting friendship is better than a disaster of a relationship." He shrugged. "Before we got to know each other then maybe, but not now, no…"

"So you're saying you don't regret the kid not being yours?"

"Yeah, of course I regret that she's not having my kid, but it would never have even reached as far as thinking about kids if she had slept with me. Apart from me thinking about having kids with her, but I do that already and…anyway. Yeah, I regret it, but there's not much I can do about it besides being a good friend. A good uncle to her kid."

"That what you really want, DiNozzo?" Gibbs sighed.

"Well, no, of course not, but that's what I've got, isn't it? There isn't much I can do about it now." He shrugged and leaned against the metal wall of the elevator.

"My gut ever been wrong, DiNozzo?"

"Er, no, Boss. Why? You needing some reassurance there?"

"DiNozzo, my hand is itching." Gibbs held his head-slap hand towards Tony. "Look, I got a gut feeling."

"About your hand?"

"About you. And Ziva."

"Oh." Tony nodded. "Yeah, I thought I had one of them…then I realised I was just drunk. Not that I get drunk frequently. Or that I spend my whole time thinking of Ziva when I get drunk. I just…"

"I know, Tony." He smiled awkwardly and for some _strange_ reason Tony was reminded of Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator 2 when John Conner tries to teach him to smile. Either that or Wednesday Addams in The Addams Family Values. "You two deserve to be happy."

"Is that permission, Boss? What happened to rule 12?"

"I'm making an exception."

"Oh. Right."

"But, you get one chance and one chance only. You screw this up, I can't help you."

"Look, Boss this is great and all, and I'm real grateful that you're doing this, but she's pregnant. She doesn't need or want me in any way other than a friend."

"Not right now, maybe. But I'm giving you this chance and you can take it whenever you think the time is right." He placed a hand on his young agent's shoulder. "Oh, and I don't advise advertising this little exception to the rule, not even to Ziva until she's ready. Alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Boss." He smiled.

"No problem, DiNozzo. You deserve one another. Just keep it out of the office as much as possible."

"Just out of curiosity, Boss, what happens if I do in fact screw this up?"

"Well, you'll have an angry, pregnant Mossad assassin after you, you'll have me after you, and I'm pretty sure that Director David will be after you as well." He shrugged. "That motivation enough?"

"Plenty. More than enough, even." He gulped. "So, I'm gonna go now – I'll pick up a pizza on the way home for her." Gibbs watched as Tony literally ran from the elevator and laughed, leaning back against the cold metal of the elevator wall and shaking his head at his agent.

 **I am thinking of uploading a chapter once every three or four days, just to spread them out a bit.**


	3. Chapter Three

**Thank you for all of your lovely reviews. They make me happy.**

 **I have split the last paragraph of the first chapter up a bit, because it was a big block of text and somebody mentioned that it was difficult to read, but apart from that and changing the structure of one of the sentences in that I did nothing, but I just wanted to thank whomever it was that said that for bringing it to my attention.**

Chapter Three

 ** _Sunday, June 24_** ** _th_** ** _2007 – 11 weeks_**

"How you feeling now?" Tony asked as he perched on the inside of her desk so their knees were touching.

"Good. I feel perfectly fine now." She shrugged and shook her head. "Should only be a couple more weeks according to Ducky, then the morning sickness should fade."

"Okay, have you asked Ducky why they call it 'morning sickness'? Because you only get sick at lunchtime." He stole a slice of cucumber out of the salad that she was picking at.

"I believe that will be a long conversation." She batted his hand away from the Tupperware box as he reached for another piece of salad.

"Hey, I thought you went out for lunch." McGee frowned as he walked through. "You two disappeared."

"We disappeared? We were gone for five minutes and when we got back you were not at your desk." Ziva said as Tony leapt up from her desk.

"I went down to Abby's lab." He defended himself. "You both left in a hurry, Ziva practically ran out."

"What are you getting at, Probie?"

"I, uh, I…well, I was just, uh, wondering…"

"Why don't you quit your wondering and get on with some working." Gibbs suggested as he sat down at his desk and took a sip of his coffee.

"Of course, Boss." McGee nodded and sat down, frowning as Tony did not leave Ziva's desk area. Gibbs noticed and flicked his eyes to his senior field agent.

"DiNozzo, you doin' anything?"

"Eating lunch."

"Eating _my_ lunch." Ziva hit his hand again. "I made you your own, Tony. Why do you insist on stealing mine?"

"Because if I was eating mine then I wouldn't get to sit next to you." He shrugged and grinned his most charming grin.

"DiNozzo." Gibbs warned and Tony nodded, leaving her desk and walking over to his own. Gibbs crooked his finger and DiNozzo leapt up again, barely touching the seat cushion. He hurried over and stood in front of Gibbs' desk. "You think any more about what we spoke about yesterday?"

"Just a little." He shrugged.

"So, all night then?"

"Yeah." Tony nodded, keeping his voice hushed so neither McGee nor Ziva nor anyone else casually passing could hear.

"What you gonna do about it?"

"Dunno yet." He shrugged again.

"She told anyone else?"

"Nope, wants to keep it a secret. Only people to know are you, Ducky, Jenny and me."

"She can't hide it forever."

"I'd like to see her try. Think it would be quite funny." He chuckled and Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "I know, Boss. I think she's still adjusting to the idea." He risked a glance at her and, as if she knew he was talking about her, she looked up at him and glared.

"Stop talking about me behind my butt. Both of you."

"It's 'back', Ziva, and believe it or not, we weren't talking about you."

"You were talking about the baby and that is close enough!" She stood up and stormed up to the director's office, leaving the entire forth floor in silence. Tony closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

"I guess the secret's out."

"You guess, DiNozzo?" Gibbs loud voice was enough to make everyone in the squad room snap their attention back to whatever it was that they had been doing before Ziva had shouted.

"Yeah, secret's definitely not a secret anymore." He turned and walked back to his desk. McGee still stood dumbfounded. "Close your mouth McSpeechless."

"You got Ziva pregnant?!"

"No. Apparently she had a boyfriend a few months ago."

"Matthew?"

"You knew about him?"

"You didn't?"

"No. How'd you find out?"

"I was with her when she got the phone call about…him dying."

"Got it, McGee." Tony sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"OH MY GOD, YOU AND ZIVA ARE HAVING A BABY!" A streak of black and red hurtled towards Tony at top speed and Abby crashed into him. Tony just groaned. How was it that word could spread so fast? It was a building of federal agents, all of whom were supposed to be able to keep a secret.

"No, Abby, _we_ are not having a baby. _Ziva_ is having a baby. AND IT'S NOT MINE!" He yelled the last part at her before she could say anything else. The whole office fell silent again as everyone stared at him, honestly more shocked by the fact that the baby _was not Tony's_ than by the fact that Officer David, the fearless, cold hearted Mossad assassin, was going to have a baby. Abby stood looking stunned and slightly dejected. "I'm sorry, Abs, it's just…today's not going great." He sighed and Abby looked at him sympathetically.

"Aw, poor Tony." She wrapped her arms around him, in a much more gentler fashion than the usual Abby style, nestling her head on his chest.

* * *

Ziva and Jenny stepped out of the office, their attentions distracted from the quiet conversation they had been having by shouts from the squad room on the level below. They both walked over to the railing to see a now peaceful bullpen full of working agents. Ziva felt a sudden stab of jealousy as she saw Tony's arms wrapped around Abby and his cheek resting on the top of her head. Jenny felt the Mossad officer tense and followed her eyesight to see Tony and Abby, knowing immediately what it was that Ziva was feeling and why she was suddenly so upset. She could tell it was just a platonic hug, and she knew that deep-down Ziva knew it too. After all, Abby was like a baby sister to Tony. The director risked placing a soothing hand on Ziva's wrist and used all the self-control she could muster not to jump when the assassin whirled on her. "Why don't you just tell him how you feel?"

"Because I cannot do this alone. I have him as a friend and I cannot ruin that, not now." _Not now that I need him._ She did not say it, and she did not have to. Despite all her efforts, her voice sounded fragile and afraid.

"How do you know he doesn't want the same thing as you?"

"Because he does not do commitment and that is what anything that could hypothetically start would have to be."

"He's grown up and matured since you first met him, Ziva. The mission with Jeanne changed him." The mention of Jeanne's name made Ziva bristle further and she walked away from the director before anything else could be said and any damage could come to Jenny, or the building, which ever one her fist hit first. She took the stairs two at a time, grabbed her bag and turned to Gibbs.

"I am going to go out and clean my head, my phone will be on if you need me." It was not a request or a demand, just a statement telling him what was going to happen. And for once Gibbs did not argue – he was not stupid, he was cautious of getting onto the wrong side of Ziva at the best of times.

Tony was not so clever.

"It's clear your head, not clean it." He grinned DiNozzo-ish-ly, barely managing to dodge the flying hole punch that skimmed his hair and broke when it hit the back dividing wall of his desk space, throwing a confetti of white paper circles across the carpet and all of his stuff. She walked to the elevator and started hitting the button, rather viciously.

* * *

"Excuse me, Ma'am? Can I help you?" She spun her head to face the man talking to her. "Whoa, it's okay, I don't want to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to talk." He held his arms out in front of him and he stood back a distance from her. He was wearing a police uniform.

She looked down.

Saw water.

She was sitting on the edge of a bridge.

She was not certain how she had got there, or where there actually was apart from sat on a bridge over a river. The police officer smiled gently. "You don't want to do this, okay, so how about you come of that ledge and we can have a talk about why you're feeling like this, yeah?" She just frowned at him as he extended his arms out. She turned back to watch the water, ignoring the man behind her. "Just come away from the edge a bit, Ma'am and we can talk. I have some sandwiches and a flask of coffee in my car."

"Stop calling me 'Ma'am'." Ziva looked back up at him.

"Okay, okay, well, how about you just tell me your name?"

"Ziva…" She murmured.

"Okay Ziva, so why don't we talk about what's making you do this?"

"Do what?" She looked puzzled.

"What's making you hurt yourself?"

"Nothing. I am just sitting here." She shrugged.

"So…you're not gonna jump?"

"No." She shook her head and turned back to the river, listening to the sound of the water as it rushed against the rocks.

"So…you're just sitting…on the edge of a bridge."

"Yes." She said slowly, leaning her head back against the railing.

"Why?"

"I needed to think and it was pretty here." Her gaze flickered across the treeline. The fading light that filtered through the leaf canopy tinted everything green. "What time is it?"

"Uh, about half six, why?"

"I have been here a long time."

"I know. Your car's been in the car park since half two. Park closed at five." He smiled. "Long time to be thinking."

"Big thing to be thinking about." She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes.

"Yeah?" He leaned on the edge of the railing. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No." She sighed and shifted, running a hand through her hair. "It has just been a long day."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Before I left. Lunch time. I ate a few pieces of salad, but I could not eat much."

"I've got some jam sandwiches in my car, like I said. I'll drive you home if you want."

"I can drive myself, although the sandwiches would be greatly appreciated." She smiled and stood up, climbing across the barrier, and yawned. She pulled her phone out and groaned. No signal. "Great."

"Ah, yeah, you'll struggle to get any signal at all here. You got anyone who needs to know where you are?"

"Er…NCIS headquarters." She guessed she should tell someone where she was.

"Feds, huh?" He whistled. "I think I can sort something. Why'd you need to contact the Navy guys?"

"Because I am one of the 'Navy guys'. My boss and my…er, colleague…they will be wondering where I am. I was not in the best of moods when I stormed out." She rubbed her face as they walked towards the car park. "Oh, God. I threw a hole punch at him." She groaned.

"You threw a hole punch at your boss?" The police officer chuckled.

"No, worse. I threw a hole punch at my best friend. I mean, my colleague, my…my Tony." She sighed and yawned again. "He hates me. He is sure to hate me. I throw stationary at his head and then I disappear."

"I'm sure he doesn't hate you." He unlocked the door to the black and white patrol car.

"After all I have done he could only hate me."

"Having a hole punch thrown at your head is not something that makes you hate someone."

"No, but it is the tip of the icecube."

"What?"

"It is the last string, yes?"

"Um…no." He grabbed a lunchbox and flask. "The tip of the _iceberg_ , meaning it is just a small part of something, and the last _straw_ is in reference to the straw that broke the camel's back. Do you know that story?"

"Yes. That is what I meant. With both of them. I do not like idioms." The police officer raised his eyebrows. "What?!"

"You. You're funny." He chuckled slightly and shook his head. "Coffee?"

"I, uh, cannot drink coffee."

"Oh…sorry." He poured himself a cup before passing the box of sandwiches over. "You can eat jam on white bread though, can't you?"

"Sure." She smiled and nodded, taking a triangle.

"So…you wanna talk about why you're out here?" He asked after they finished the sandwiches.

"I was angry. It was all Tony's fault. If he had not been talking about me and the baby then I would not have yelled." Ziva stated, again not realising what she had said. Again.

"Baby?" The officer choked on his coffee.

"Yeah. Baby." She sighed and leaned back against the side of the patrol car. "I do not think I am ready for this, you know. I do not know what a baby needs. I do not know how to take care of a child. I cannot be a single mother. I do not think I could be a mother even with a husband to help, and I do not really want a husband. Or maybe I do and I just do not know it. Maybe I do not want to know that I know it." In her mind she saw Tony smiling at her, pressing kisses to her cheek, her forehead, her lips. Running his finger over metal bands on her's.

"I'm sure you're just nervous, all new mothers are." He shrugged. "What about your friend, Tony?" She smiled at the mention of his name.

"Tony knows nothing about children either. Or commitment."

"Will he be there for you and the baby?"

"For now, yes. In seven months, who knows?" She shook her head.

"You have feelings for him?"

"Wha…no, of course not. He is Tony, we work together. Anyway, our boss has rules."

"And there are no exceptions to these rules?"

"No. Not rule twelve, at least." She looked up at him. "You said you had a way that I could contact NCIS."

"Sure." He handed a satellite phone over.

"Cynthia, it is Ziva. Can I talk to Jen please?" She bit her lip as the call was patched through. "Jen, it's Ziva."

"Ziva! Where on earth have you been! Abby's panicking and McGee's had to spend the afternoon calming her down, Gibbs is furious because he can't get hold of you and Tony…he's going out of his mind with worry. Where are you?" The director chastised, clearly trying to mask the panic in her voice with anger. And failing.

"I am in a park about two hours away. I am fine, Jen."

"Yeah, well, you can be the one to explain your absence to the team. Everyone refused to go home until they know that you're safe."

"Sorry. My phone could not get reception."

"How are you calling now then?"

"A police officer let me use his satellite phone." Ziva sighed. "Jen, I am going to head home now. I will be about two hours, okay. I will see you tomorrow. Tell everyone to go home. I do not need you all worrying about me." She hung up the call before Jenny could object and handed the phone back. "Thank you."

"I'm driving you home. Now I know you're pregnant, I can't let you drive home looking as tired as you do now. Particularly not such a long drive."

"I cannot leave my car."

"Sure you can. I've got a friend who can tow it back for you tomorrow." He smiled.

"Why are you being so kind?"

"Just doing my duty. Come on." He held the door open for her and she slid in, making sure her SIG was in reach if she needed it, along with two of her concealed knives. "I'm Morris by the way. Family name, most people just call me Officer Baily."

"Thank you, Officer Baily."

* * *

The blue light filtered through the thin curtains. Tony rushed to the window to see the police car pulling up below. _Oh, God._ His mind went strait to the worst case scenario. _Her driving's gotten her killed. She drove her car into a ditch or wrapped it around a tree or…or…or…_ He ran out of the door to her apartment and down the stairs, taking them two at a time, just in time to see her stepping out and exchanging a short conversation with the police officer in front. She looked up at him and smiled apologetically, nodding when the officer asked something. Tony held his arms open for her and she walked across the street. She stepped into his embrace and buried her face into his neck. "I'm sorry, Ziva. I was an idiot, I should have been more…"

"No, Tony, it was not your fault. Mostly. I just needed some time to think."

"God, Ziva. I thought you were dead." He squeezed her tighter, kissing the top of her head repeatedly. "I thought you were dead." He murmured. He started running his hands down her arms, over her cheeks, checking her for injury. "You're okay? Nothing's wrong? Baby's okay?"

"Tony, I am fine. We are fine." She smiled and slipped her hand into his, platonically, of course. "Are you staying tonight?"

"I've already made the sofa up." He kissed her temple and guided her back to her apartment, nodding over her head to Officer Baily, smiling gratefully at the man who had brought her back to him.

 **It has happened to me before, being asked by a (young-ish) police officer to come off the bridge so I do not hurt myself. I was not going to, my logic being that even though at the time I hated life, the scene was too pretty to taint with misery. The police officer did not believe me, and would not leave me to just sit on the pretty bridge above a pretty river, surrounded by pretty trees.**


	4. Chapter Four

**I love this chapter. Really, really love it. There is another chapter, chapter 9, that I really love as well, so look forward to that.**

Chapter Four

 ** _Saturday, July 7_** ** _th_** ** _2007 – 13 weeks_**

"You do not have to stay tonight, you know." Ziva watched Tony wash up the dishes from where she perched on her kitchen counter. "My sofa is not good for your back, and you have been sleeping on it for three weeks now."

"Ziva, I'm fine. I'm here to help you and look after you."

"I am pregnant, not dying, Tony." She pouted. He would not even let her do the washing up. "You have not complained about your back once."

"Your couch is more comfortable than mine." He shrugged. The couch felt like it was destroying his spine, vertebra by vertebra, and he was starting to worry that it was going to leave permanent damage, but he wanted to be there for her and he was not going to whine about something so trivial as a sore back.

"Tony, please. Why do you keep staying around?"

"Because nobody should have to go through the whole pregnancy and kid thing alone." He shrugged. "You need a friend. And because I…" He could tell her. He could tell her how he felt. But one look at her face told him not to. She was three months pregnant, now really was not the time. "I like helping you." He turned away and gripped the edge of the basin, gritting his teeth together and closing his eyes. _You like helping her?! Idiot! Fool! What did you say that for?!_

She just snorted and shook her head. "Right."

"What was that 'right' for?"

"I just…nothing." She slipped off the countertop and ran a hand through her hair, leaving the other hand to rest on her small, barely noticeable bump. She had hoped for another response. He had been so…caring since their discussion in the head three weeks prior that the feelings she had spent so long trying to bury were beginning to resurface. It was her unrequited feelings for him that had made her go out and get drunk in the first place – she did not need the false hope she was instilling in herself now, she would not be prepared for the fall – particularly not with a baby in tow. But, of course, he was just there as her friend and he wanted nothing more. What did she expect? He was Tony, biggest gamophobe in the history of the universe, and she was pregnant with another man's child.

"Hey, you OK?" Tony put his hand on her shoulder. "You zoned out there for a minute."

"Hm? Oh, I was just thinking." She looked up at him and smiled. "If you insist on staying, please take the bed. I do not mind sleeping on the sofa."

"I'm not kicking you out of your bed, Ziva." He shook his head. "I'll be fine on the couch. Like I said, it's more comfortable than mine."

"Tony…" Ziva sighed and nawwed on her lip. "Fine, we are both adults, if you refuse to leave and you refuse to 'kick me out' of my bed, then we shall have to share, because I refuse to let you sleep on the sofa for one more night."

"You really don't have to do that, I mean…"

"What is the problem? We have shared a bed before and this time neither of us will be naked."

"Ziva, I…" _Dude, why are you trying to find excuses_ not _to sleep in the same bed as Ziva?_

 _Oh, well, I don't know, maybe because it's Ziva and you spend every night dreaming about her?!_

 _Gibbs gave you a chance, why don't you take it?_

 _Because it's not the right time._

 _It's never going to be the right time! There'll always be something else in the way!_

"Fine." He did not know what he was saying. He had planned on saying no, finding an excuse to stay on the sofa, but no, his mouth had to go and say 'fine'.

"Alright. I am going for a bath."

"Do you want me to run it for you?"

"Tony! I am not an invalid!" She glared at him.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I was just trying to be nice." He held his hands up in defence and admired her as she sauntered out of the kitchen. She rounded the corner and he leant back against the fridge, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing down.

"I know you were staring, DiNozzo!"

* * *

"Good bath?" Tony asked as Ziva walked through in a hoodie and jogging bottoms, towelling her hair dry.

"Mmhm." She nodded. "What are you doing?"

"I was waiting for you to finish. It's movie time." He grinned. Ziva looked to the clock on her mantelpiece. He was right. 2030. Movie time. She smiled and walked over to the couch, sitting next to him.

"So, what is playing on the DiNozzo channel tonight?"

"Ah, well, are you familiar with Richard Gere?"

"An Officer and a Gentleman?"

"The very one. And are you familiar with Julia Roberts?"

"Erin Broc…Brocko…"

"Brockovich." He nodded. "We watched it last week. Tonight, however, we are watching a 1990 classic. This is a chick-flick that can make you laugh so much that you forget it's a chick-flick." He pulled the DVD case out from behind his back. She took it and studied the front and back very carefully.

"It is about a prostitute?" She asked incredulously.

"Yep. Pretty Woman. Really, truly a beautiful Cinderella story." He took the case back and removed the disc, sliding it into the reader.

"Julia Roberts loses her shoe?" She asked sceptically.

"What?"

"Cinderella loses her shoe and you said this was a Cinderella story."

"No, it's more to do with the whole prince falling in love with the servant story."

"So there are no shoes involved?"

"No. Well…she does wear some knee length boots that are seen frequently, but no, there are no shoes involved." He clarified. "Look, you'll see, just watch it." He sat back down, taking the folded blanket from the floor and covering her with it. He hit play on the remote and she snuggled into his side. It was hard for him not to think about how domesticated it was, them curled up on the sofa together. "That, that car right there is a Lotus Esprit. Real good car. They used an Esprit in 'The Spy Who Loved Me' too. I was gonna buy one, you know?" He tried to distract himself from her warm presence in his arms.

"Why did you not?"

"I don't know really. I already had a good car that I liked, I didn't have the room for another. I always said I would buy one one day, but I guess I just never got round to it. It's still there though, at the back of my mind. That and a red Ferrari. One-day, Ziva, I'll have enough money and I'll have a big enough garage and I'll have time enough to buy and restore a red Ferrari, just like Magnum's, and a Lotus Esprit." He smiled. "One day, when I'm old and retired and my kids have left home and my grandkids have started school. That's when I'll do it. That's when I'll buy the cars."

"You have it all planned out." She whispered and leant her head on his shoulder. "I have nothing planned."

"You don't need to plan out your whole life, Ziva. Just the important things like retirement." He flashed a classic DiNozzo grin and turned back to the screen. "You know, the Lotus is a British car?" He started talking again. "The Brits really can make cars; Aston Martins, Nobles, Morgans like Ducky's, Minis like yours – although your Mini was actually designed and built by BMW, so it isn't truly British anymore – Bentleys, McLarens, MGs, Rolls-Royces, TVRs, Triumphs…"

"Tony, are you going to shut up so we can watch the film, or are you going to continue telling me all about British cars?"

"What? You don't like hearing my voice?" He joked.

"No, I love hearing your voice Tony, I just thought that you wanted me to watch the film." She had not realised what she said.

"You 'love hearing my voice', do you?"

"No…I did not mean…I…" She blushed.

"I was joking, Zee-Vah." He chuckled and leant his head on top of hers where it still rested on his shoulder. They stayed in that position throughout the rest of the film.

Tony looked down at her face, the peaceful expression. "She sleeps." He murmured, shifting slightly so he could pick her up and carry her through to the bedroom, laying her down gently and pulling the covers over her. He pressed his lips to her forehead and smiled. "Sleep well, Ziva David. I'll be in the other room if you need me." She stirred slightly and gripped his wrist as he turned to leave.

"You said you would stay in here tonight." She mumbled sleepily. He just smiled.

"Sure. Just let me turn the TV off and shut everything up." He squeezed her fingers gently when she loosened his grasp on his wrist and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. "I promise I'll stay in here if that's what you want."

"Todah." She settled back down and released his hand, a smile gracing her lips as her breathing slowed.

 **A gamophobe is someone who fears commitment.**

 **I could not resist putting in that little segment on British cars, although if you want good British cars now at a reasonable price you really have to rebuild them, because you want old ones, or you have to pay a fortune for them. The new ones are not great. And Britain has never been good at anything other than sports and rally cars really. My dad used to be a member of the pit crew of a rally team, and spent a lot of my childhood teaching me the basics behind rebuilding a car.**


	5. Chapter Five

**I am absolutely shattered, and struggling to write anything at the moment.**

 **This one is shorter.**

Chapter Five

 ** _Friday, July 13_** ** _th_** ** _2007 – 14 weeks_**

"How'd it go?" Gibbs smiled as Ziva walked into the squad room.

"How'd what go?" Tony looked up from the cold case file he was reviewing.

"Ultrasound appointment." She shrugged.

"What? You didn't tell me."

"It was just like a doctors appointment Tony. I thought you would have gotten bored." Her face grew puzzled at the hurt expression he wore. "I did not think you would have been so upset to have missed it."

Gibbs watched as Tony floundered for words. "The baby's okay?"

She turned to the older man. "Yes. Healthy. My estimate was correct, I am three months and one week along." She smiled and passed Tony a small image. His eyes brightened and he looked up at her.

"This is your baby?" He grinned.

"No, I just brought you an ultrasound image of a stranger's baby." Her voice was saturated with sarcasm.

"She's beautiful."

"Who says I am having a she?"

"Well, I can't keep calling her 'it' now, can I?" He shrugged. "I'm gonna be the coolest uncle ever. She's gonna be so spoilt." He chuckled and continued to trace the outline of the tiny human.

"I am sorry I did not tell you about the appointment, Tony. I really just did not think that you would have wanted to come."

"C'est la vie, as they say in France." He tried desperately not to let his discomfort show on his face. "I'm just moral support anyway."

"Tony, you are more than just moral support. You are my best friend. I truly am sorry."

"Hey, DiNozzo." Gibbs walked over, sensing that Tony's agitation was increasing by the second. "Take this down to Abby." He handed over a manila folder. Tony just nodded and accepted the file, standing and walking quickly to the elevator.

"Gibbs, I do not understand why he is so upset." Tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes as she stared at the seat that Tony had just vacated. He just sighed and shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an awkward hug.

* * *

Tony crumbled to the floor, sinking down the metal wall of the elevator. She had not told him. He would have understood if she had not invited him – maybe – but to not even tell him? He was her moral support guy, her best friend, and she had not even told him.

 _It's not your kid, DiNozzo. What were you expecting?_

 _Oh, I don't know, maybe her just saying 'hey, Tony, I got an ultrasound appointment today.'_

 _And how would you reply, huh? You would have said 'great, what time? I'll drive you.' And since she didn't tell you it means she probably didn't want you there._

 _Well, why wouldn't she want me there? I'm her moral support guy. I'm her Tony._

 _And she probably finds you as irritating as everyone else does. You've been spending all your free time with her, she probably wanted some space!_

"Tony? Tony?! DiNozzo!" He looked up, blinking to clear the tears out of his eyes. _Tears? DiNozzo, you need to man up._ "Tony, what's wrong?"

"Oh, hey Abs. Didn't see you there."

"What happened? What's wrong?" She moved inside the elevator so the door could close and she hit the stop button when it started moving. She sat cross-legged in front of him, her bright green eyes imploring into his, green on green.

"She went for her ultrasound this morning." He swallowed.

"Oh, God, is something wrong with the baby? Oh, poor Ziva, is someone with her? Why aren't you with her? Oh…"

"Abby!" He leant forwards and grabbed her wrists, restraining her flailing arms as she began to panic. "Nothing's wrong with her or the baby. They're both healthy."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Because she didn't tell me. She didn't tell me about having the appointment."

"What do you mean, she didn't tell you?" Abby frowned.

"We left separately this morning like we normally do, and I arrived here and she didn't and Gibbs wouldn't tell me where she was, then she just waltzes in and Gibbs is all, like, 'how'd it go?' and I was like 'how'd what go?' and she was like 'ultrasound appointment,' like it was no big deal!" He gasped for breath. "I just thought she would have told me."

"Have you told her how you feel yet?" Abby looked at him.

"Well, not in so many words." He shrugged.

"Not in so many words? It takes three, Tony." She slapped his leg to punctuate her words. "Okay, how many words?"

"Er…none? I mean, for the past week she has insisted that if I want to stay round to take care of her then we share the bed because I refused to kick her out of her bed and she refused to let me stay on the couch and so for the past week she's slept in my arms. Seeing her waking up, just smiling up at me and I feel like I can tell her but as soon as I open my mouth she runs off to the bathroom with morning sickness or she's heading off to shower or get breakfast." He banged his head back against the wall and groaned. "Why's it so difficult, Abs? I love her with all my heart."

"We all know that, Tony. It's plain as day." She chuckled. "So why can't you tell her?"

"I don't know. I really don't. She's beautiful and she's amazing and she's Ziva and she's my best friend and every time I think I can tell her I feel like I'm gonna get it all wrong."

"That's just nerves, Tony."

"And they're there for a good reason! What if you're wrong and she doesn't feel the same way about me?"

"Am I ever wrong, Tony?" She looked at him innocently.

"You said I'd enjoy the club you dragged us to last year."

"Okay, so that was once. One time. I'm not wrong, she loves you."

"I dunno Abs. Maybe I'll just wait a bit more."

"Wait for what?! There's nothing for you to wait for, DiNozzo!" Abby yelled at him.

"Have you ever had to tell someone you love with all of your heart that you love them?"

She paused for a moment and looked at her hands, folded in her lap. "No."

"Then you can't tell me what to do on this one, Abby. Sorry, I just need to figure this out on my own." He sighed and leaned back on the wall. "Thanks for trying though, Abs. Thanks for everything.

 **I am not sure about this chapter. Tell me what you think, because although I do not like it, I do not know why I do not like it.**


	6. Chapter Six

**Good morning. Or afternoon. Or night. Or, really, whenever. Maybe it is your birthday when you are reading this, or Christmas. If so, have a good day. If not, have a good day anyway.**

 **I was going to say something, and I cannot remember what it was...**

 **I do not know. Oh, but I have been working on the next chapter of It Takes Two, and the last chapter of Brown on Green. The former might even be up today or tomorrow, if I have the time. Brown on Green... I do not know. It is coming along slowly. I will continue to work on it.**

Chapter Six

 ** _Sunday, August 19_** ** _th_** ** _2007 – 19½ weeks_**

"A pint of Ben & Jerry's Mint Chocolate Chunk and a Berry Mango Madness." Tony placed them on Ziva's desk as she sat down.

"How did you know?" She grinned, shedding her coat and taking the spoon he handed her.

"Well, you've been craving Mint Chocolate Chunk for the past week and you've always liked Berry Mango Madness, so I brought them on my way in this morning." He nodded and turned back to his desk.

"You left early so you could get them for me?" She stared at him, shocked.

"Well, might as well start the day well." He shrugged. "Makes it less likely for me to get anything wrong. Especially since we're having to work a Sunday again."

"Thank you." She said softly, smiling at him.

"Anything to keep you placid. How is baby David?" He grinned.

"Well, my pyjamas and gym clothes do not fit anymore." She sighed, taking a mouthful of ice-cream. "How was your date last night?"

"Not as good as spending the evening with you would have been." He watched her carefully, the same way he always did. She looked up at him. He had a strange look of longing in his eyes, gone in a flash.

"No?"

"No. Why did you set me up with her, Ziva?" He had not wanted to go. He wanted to go on a date with Ziva, but he still did not think it was the right time, not that it ever would be.

"You have not been on a single date in two months, which is a very long time in DiNozzo standards. You have been spending so much time looking after me, which I do not need, that you have not been thinking about yourself."

"I enjoy spending time with you. Much more than being set up with the lady who sells you fresh fruit."

She winced. "You did not do anything that would make me need to find somewhere else to buy fruit, did you?"

"No. We parted on good terms." He smiled at her. "Look, don't…don't set me up with any more fruit sellers. Or anyone, really. I'm good picking my own women."

"I do not want you to sacrifice anything for me. I am fine. I just want you to go on dates every so often, so you do not feel like you are trapped."

"Ziva…" He sighed. "I don't want to date. I want to be looking after you. Can't you just leave it at that?" She frowned at him but turned back to her ice cream.

"I guess." She shrugged. It was not that she wanted him to be dating anyone – she just did not want to be spending so much time around him that she would start to slip up on covering her emotions for him. He was just there as a friend, he did not want anything more, and she had to remember that, and remember to keep her feelings hidden, something which was becoming more and more difficult with the increased amount of time they were spending together and the hormones that were racing through her body. Setting him up with other women made it easier for her to remember that he did not like her in the way that she liked him. "What was it like sleeping alone for the first time in almost a month?" She grinned.

"Cold." He pouted, and they were back to their joking, flirting selves again.

"Well, at least you had the covers to keep you warm."

"Yeah, but I didn't have a nice warm body curled up next to me." He shrugged. "I think I can forego the covers when you're curled up next to me."

"Are you staying tonight?"

"Of course." He smiled at her before turning back to check his email. "Hey, let me take you out for dinner tonight."

"You do not need to do that."

"You're right, I don't _need_ to." He leaned back in his chair. "But I want to. Come on. It'll be nice."

"Tony, I…" It would be nice. She had not been out for dinner since, well, since Matthew. "Where?"

"Where do you want to go? I'll take you wherever you want. All depends on what you want to eat."

"Hmm. Do I get some time to think about it?"

"You can have all the time in the world." He smiled at her and she narrowed her eyes. He just shrugged at her confused look and turned back to his email.

"What is a school reunion, and why are you being invited?" She whispered in his ear, just before he could hit delete on the email that he was reading. He yelped as her breath, cooled by the ice-cream, brushed down the side of his neck.

"It's uh…it's where everyone dresses up in formal stuff and pretends to be happy to see the kids they used to make fun of, or were made fun of by. Not important."

"The email says you have never been to one." She turned her back to his desk, perching on the edge. Their knees brushed as she stared at his face.

"Never seen the point."

"Maybe you should go to one, show everyone how well you have turned out."

"This another attempt at making me get out of your hair?"

"I just want you to be happy, and I do not see how you can be when you are stuck looking after me all the time."

"I am happy. I promise." He smiled, playing with her slim fingers as they ran over the textured surface of his desk. "Besides, the reunion's in January. By that point you'll have just had Baby David and she'll need a lot of looking after."

"I think we will be able to cope for a few nights on our own." She shrugged. "Besides, we will need to learn to cope on our own." She stood up.

He gripped her wrist. "What does that mean?"

"It means, we need to be prepared for the day that you find a girlfriend." His grip loosened and his face fell.

"That…that wouldn't…"

"It is okay. I know it will happen. It is inevitable." She smiled sadly at him before walking back to her desk. "I know where I would like to go for dinner now." She changed the subject, anything to stop the tears that threatened to fall from slipping down her cheeks.

* * *

"Thank you, Tony. Tonight was lovely." Ziva smiled up at him as he guided her to the door to her apartment, his hand just above the small of her back. She could not help but notice how his skin had stayed in contact with her in some way or another since they had left the restaurant.

"Only the best for my favourite ninja and her little baby." He shrugged, slipping his key from his pocket and unlocking her door. She had given him the key after he had been staying for one week and, after going out to get dinner and getting locked out, having to pick the lock, only to find her fast asleep. It meant that he could come and go as he pleased.

"I am not a ninja, nor am I yours." She chuckled, hiding the pain that flickered through her eyes by turning away from him to put her bag down. It was more a reminder to herself than anything else.

"You're _my_ best friend." He shrugged. "How's that any different from you being _my_ ninja?"

"The connotations."

"If you don't want me to keep calling you 'my ninja', I'll stop." He smiled honestly, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"It is fine, Tony. I do not mind." She shook her head and turned to look at him. He had the strange look in his eyes again, the one he had worn earlier that morning, the longing, again gone within milliseconds of it appearing.

"Ziva, I…"

"Tony, I…" They started at the same time. "You go first."

"No, no…ladies first." _Let her say what she has to say, then you can tell her. It will give you time to work out exactly how to tell her._

"I…er…" _Do not goose out now. Tell him how you feel. You cannot keep this charade up any longer. You are going to get hurt, all three of you. You, him and baby._ "I am going to go and get changed. You may pick the movie." _What?! Why can you not tell him?_

"Right. Yeah."

"What were you going to say?"

"I was just…going to say that we should go out more often, y'know. I think it was nice." _Nice? Nice?! Damn you, DiNozzo! You had the perfect opportunity to tell her and you didn't! Chicken! Wimp!_

"Yes. I thought it was nice, too." She nodded and turned away. He just balled his hands into fists and hit the top of the back of the couch. He walked into the kitchen and pulled the ultrasound image from where it was attached to the fridge with a magnet.

"What am I gonna do, Baby?" He murmured quietly, so that her super-hearing would not be able to hear. He replaced the image and grabbed the carton of orange juice, pouring two glasses and walking through to the living room. He ran his fingers along the growing collection of films that had migrated from his apartment. He hovered over The Sound of Music and lingered on Titanic before jumping back and plucking out a different DVD. Sound of Music – her favourite, but too risky if he was trying to keep his feelings detached. Titanic – too romantic. Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark – perfect. Of course, he forgot to consider the fact that it was Ziva, and it did not matter what they were watching, he would still find it romantic with her curled into his side.

"What are we watching?" She walked back through in one of his OSU shirts and a pair of his jogging bottoms, the drawstrings pulled tight.

"Indiana Jones." He looked at her and gulped, turning back so he could place the DVD in the reader in an attempt to distract himself. It was so domesticated, her in his clothes.

"I hope you do not mind, but my pyjamas were uncomfortably tight and your gym clothes are…"

"It's fine. I only wish I looked that good in them." He made a joke out of it. It was all he really knew how to do, make a joke out of things when it became too uncomfortable. It was a trick to diffuse tension that he had learnt long ago, when he was a child. A bad habit really. She smiled and sat next to him, a cushion between them on the sofa.

"You are staring, Tony." She said, fifteen minutes into the film. He had not removed his eyes from her face since they sat down.

"How d'you do that, just know that I'm staring without even looking?"

"It is my Tony radar. It helps me know what you are thinking."

"I doubt you know what I am thinking." He shook his head, but averted his eyes, just in case she could see something in them.

"Right now you are wondering what I look like _without_ your clothes on." She smirked.

"How'd you know?" He was not, but there was no point in telling her what he was thinking, because he was thinking about how beautiful she was, and how much he loved her. Yeah, he could not tell her.

"Because you are predictable like that."

"I don't think I'm always predictable." He shrugged. He was not certain what compelled him to do it, but he leaned forwards and cupped her face in his hand. "You're amazing, you know that?" He rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone. "But I don't think you can predict me doing this." He leaned forwards even further, and she smiled slightly as his warm breath brushed her face. His lips grazed hers just as a sharp rap came from the front door. She pulled back and cursed. Tony turned back to face the screen, placing his head in his hands as she walked over to the door. He heard her sharp intake of breath and could see her back stiffen.

"Shalom Ziva."

"What are _you_ doing here?"

 **Oooh, who could it be?**

 **Well, you only have another three days until I upload the next chapter.**

 **I would ask for guesses as to who has just turned up, but I think it is pretty obvious.**


	7. Chapter Seven

**This is set the same day as the last chapter (one of my biggest problems with only having 24 chapters).**

 **Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry… I could go on forever. This was a painful chapter to write. I sobbed my eyes out through most of it.**

 **We had some good guesses as to who it was at the door, people I did not even consider. A couple of you got it right.**

Chapter Seven

 ** _Sunday, August 19_** ** _th_** ** _2007 – 19½ weeks_**

 _"Shalom Ziva."_

 _"What are_ you _doing here?"_

"What? You are not going to ask me inside?" The movie was still playing in the background. She bit her lip.

"Turn the film off." She said quietly, not budging from her position at the door. The man on the doorstep frowned at her but the background noises ceased. "Go into the kitchen and wait for me. I will kill you if you do not stay in there or if you cause any distractions or if you listen in to the conversation. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Tony said to her back. He could tell it was serious just by her tone. It was a tone that suggested she was not kidding and the threat was real. "If you need anything…"

"I will know where to find you." She finished, still not looking away from the greying man on the doorstep. The door to the kitchen clicked closed. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

"That is obvious. Why?" Her voice was harsh and cold.

"This is not a conversation to be had on the doorstep now, is it?" He raised his eyebrows and she moved back, allowing him access to her home.

"You must excuse me for a moment." She left him and followed Tony into the kitchen. "You need to leave. Now." Her tone was urgent.

"Why? What's wrong? Who is it?"

"Somebody who wants you dead. Please, just stay at your place for a couple of days. I will phone you when it is safe for you to come around again. I may not be at work until then." Her eyes were pleading with him and she seemed upset as it was, arguing was not going to help anything.

"Okay. If you need anything, you know where to find me. I'm always just a phone call away. Anytime, whatever you need." He pressed his lips to her temple before heading towards the door.

"Wait. You might want to go down the fire escape."

"Pretty woman style?"

"Yeah. I just…"

"Okay. That's fine." He smiled comfortingly at her and gently squeezed her upper arm. Whatever was going on, he was not going to pry. He was curious, yes, but it did not seem to be the right time to question her. He seemed to be running headlong into a lot of 'wrong time's lately. He wrapped his arms around her. "It'll be okay. Whatever 'it' is, it'll be okay."

"Thank you, Tony." She looked up into his eyes and wanted to feel his lips against hers again, just as they had been briefly before they had been interrupted. But of course, that could not happen, and he was already leaving through the back door of the kitchen, the one that led into the corridor to her bedroom. She took a deep breath to steady herself before turning and heading through the other door, into the living room.

"Who was that?"

"None of your business." She stood to attention. The man ignored her comment.

"You have a nice place here, Ziva."

"You should know. After all, you paid for it." Her tone was bitter. "I only arranged the furniture and added photographs."

"Yes. I noticed those. Only one from home." He held up the image of the three children, smiling. "I have the same photograph on my desk back home."

"I know." She snapped, ignoring the impulse to tell him that there were many of her home and only one of a place she used to call home. "What are you doing here?"

He handed a photograph over as if in explanation and she gasped slightly. It depicted her and Tony laughing at a crime scene a week before, her NCIS windbreaker doing nothing to hide her bump, if not accentuating it even more. She hadn't realised how obvious her pregnancy really was. She looked down and squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that even if he had not had the photo, he would have been able to work it out with one look at her.

"Most daughters tell their fathers when the find out they are pregnant."

"Most daughters do not have you as a father." She spat back, throwing the photo on the coffee table. Part of her could not believe he was still having people spy on her, whilst another part of her reminded her that he would never change and he would always be the man he had always been.

"Four and a half months is not too late to get rid of it." His voice was cold and business-like, all traces of cordiality gone, and she took an involuntary step back, placing a hand on her stomach as if to shield her unborn child from her father.

"No. I will not harm my child. I love my child." She was disgusted at him for even suggesting such a thing.

"This is not what you want, Ziva. Come, this little fantasy of yours is not healthy." His tone was one she recognised from being a young girl when she wanted something and her father was trying to convince her otherwise. She remembered the tricks he would play on her mind, telling her lies, telling her what she _really_ wanted. "I can take care of this."

"No. I will not let you. I am happy."

"Ziva, if you are doing this just to appease your Agent DiNozzo, I can tell you now that it is a waste of your time. He will not be faithful to you, you already know that. Just because he got you pregnant, it does not mean that you must live a lie with him, that you must lie to yourself that this is what you want."

"It is not Tony's baby. The baby's father died. Tony is just my friend."

"He has been seen leaving your apartment every morning since your condition was made public."

"He has been staying with me to help out."

That was the last straw. "I raised an independent child! A child who needs nobody to help her out! You are not her!" Her body tensed as she prepared herself for the inevitable slap that was to come. And she was not disappointed. As her father's hand collided with her cheek she stayed silent, not letting any pain show on her face, not letting any of the tears that threatened to fall slip past the barriers. She had learnt from experience that flinching made it worse, it made him ridicule her. Crying meant she would receive another slap, a harder one. Fighting back and retaliating meant a much worse punishment. Staying stony-faced was the only way to handle the situation. Not complain, not show that it hurt, take it like a man. Those tactics had gotten her through childhood, and now she wished she was as brave as she was back then. She kept her chin up, both hands protectively on her stomach, as she stared defiantly at her father. His eyes flashed with anger and he raised his hand again, the harsh snap of flesh on flesh reverberating around the apartment. "We shall continue this discussion tomorrow. By then I hope you will have come to your senses." He looked down at her, tilting her chin up with his fingers and pressing a kiss to the cheek he had not touched before walking out of the apartment and leaving her alone. She closed the door and curled up on her bed in a foetal position, letting tears soak her bed linen. She reached over to her mobile and hit speed dial one, waiting for Tony to pick up. She just wanted to hear the sound of his voice, just wanted him to say soothing words to her to help her forget.

 _"Ziva? Ziva, what's wrong?"_ He answered almost immediately. He could hear her crying and he was pulling his jacket and shoes on in seconds and she heard his door slam. _"I'll be there in ten minutes, Sweetcheeks. It's okay. It's all gonna be fine. I'm right here, don't hang up on me. Just hold tight."_ He jumped every red light he hit, triggering screeches of protesting tyres and blaring horns up and down the streets. He stopped his car, not bothering to properly park and knowing he was going to have a ticket in the morning, but not caring. The lights were still on in her apartment and he bolted up the stairs, already getting his key out ready to unlock her door. His phone was still pressed to his ear and even though her sobs had quietened down, they were still audible. "Ziva? Ziva, where are you?" He called, checking each room when he received no response. As he walked into the bedroom, the door already open, he hung up the call, making her cry harder. She was curled in a ball in the middle of the bed and he walked over carefully. Her back was to him and he circled the bed so he could be facing her. In the light spilling through from the doorway, he could see an angry red handprint on one of her cheeks. He brushed her tears away and removed the phone from her hands. "It's okay. I'm here now." He slipped his shoes and jacket off, laying them on the chair by her dresser. "Can you tell me who did this to you?" He placed a hand on her shoulder and she shook her head. "Please? I want to help you." She whispered something that he could not hear and he sighed. "You're gonna have to speak up, I don't have bionic hearing."

"My father." She said, slightly louder this time. Tony was almost sick at the thought that her father could even think of laying a hand on his daughter. He could not imagine ever wanting to hurt Ziva's baby, and it was not even his own. He closed his eyes, promising to exact revenge on her father.

"It's okay now. I'm here now." He stripped down to his boxers, his usual sleeping attire, and curled himself around her protectively, waiting for her to calm down and drift to sleep. Once he was certain he was not going to wake her, he cautiously moved from the bed and went around the apartment, ensuring that all of the windows were bolted shut, despite it being mid-August, and the deadlock was on the door. He set the air-con on and grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch, shutting off the lights. The last thing he did before climbing back onto the bed was send a text to Gibbs: _Daddy David in town. T._ He placed his phone next to hers on the bedside table and curled up with her, resuming his protective position.

 **I was in one of my Eli-hating moods when I wrote this. You can tell. You know, I am still undecided about him. There are days when I hate his guts, and there are days when I almost like him. It is not even that I am watching different episodes, because I can watch the same episode two days in a row and have completely different feelings for him each day. He is a very complicated character.**

 **I realise that Mossad would probably have known about Matthew, considering the 24/7 surveillance, but I am using my artistic licence.**


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

 ** _Monday, August 20th 2007 – 19½ weeks_**

A smile tugged up at the corner of her lips as she felt the strange fluttering sensation again. She grazed her fingers along her belly, just above the soft quivering, and grinned.

"What's making you smile so much?" Tony asked from where he lay next to her, startling her.

"I thought you were still asleep."

"I've been watching you for the past half hour." He propped himself up on his elbow so his body was turned to face her as she lay in a supine position. "You look happy." The red, hand-shaped mark still blemished her cheek, a reminder of the night before. She picked up his hand and brought it over to her stomach, replacing her hand with his.

"The baby is moving there." She smiled. He looked at her and smiled sadly.

"I…I can't feel it…" He shook his head.

"You will in time." She nestled her head down next to his shoulder, keeping her hand next to his on her stomach. "It feels like butterflies."

"I wish I could feel it too." They fell silent, the sound of their breathing the only noise in the apartment.

"I love my baby, Tony." She said, out of the blue.

"Of course you do. We all know you do. Why would you think you need to tell me that?" He frowned at her as she looked up, conflict filling her eyes.

"My father…he said that this is not what I want…"

"Your father knows nothing of who you are. Anyone can see just by looking at you that you love your baby. Don't listen to him." He began stroking her hair with his other hand, playing with the soft curls.

"But what if he is right?"

"He's not."

"But what if…"

"Ziva." He interrupted. "You're going to be the best mother any child could wish for. You never have to worry about that. Your baby's gonna be the luckiest kid in the world." There was a knock on the door and Tony smiled. "I'll get it." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and stood up, pulling on jeans and a t-shirt. He made his way to her front door and opened it up, coming face to face with an older man with greying hair and tanned skin. The man had a strange look on his face, one of disgust mixed with humour. "Director David I presume." His voice immediately lost the softness that it had held but moments ago, and his face grew sour.

"Correct. Agent DiNozzo?"

"Yes. Not that it is any business of yours."

"Ziva is my business." Her father said, looming over him. Tony was uncertain where his sudden bravery came from, but he stood his ground.

"Tony, who is it?" Ziva called from the bedroom.

"Nobody. Stay in there, try and get some more sleep."

"But I am not tired."

"Have a bath then. Relax. Use some of that flowery smelling stuff that McGee gave you for Hanukah last year."

"We have work."

"No. I've told Gibbs we're gonna take the day off. He already knows not to expect us in." He called through, his eyes never leaving those of Eli, not trusting the older man.

"Tony, what is going on? Why are we taking the day off all of a sudden? Who is it at the door?" She hurried through and stopped when she saw her father.

"I told you I would be back to finish our conversation." He shrugged and pushed past Tony so he was standing no more than two foot away from her. "It seems you invited _him_ over again once I left."

"He came over to make sure that I was okay. It had been a long day and he wanted to make sure that I was sleeping properly. He was worried about me and the baby."

"The Ziva I knew did not need worrying over. _She_ was strong."

"The Ziva _I_ know is strong. Stronger than any other person I have ever met." Tony stepped forwards, placing himself between Ziva and her father like a shield. "But that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve to have someone worried about her, caring for her. She may not need the worry, but she's earned it. She is a wonderful woman and is going to be a wonderful mother and you putting stupid little doubts into her head is not going to help anything!"

Eli snorted and rolled his eyes. "You have two options, Ziva. You come back home with me, and we can sort this whole mess out, or you can stay here and lose your family, friends and allies. What do you chose?"

"America is my home. Tony and Gibbs and Jenny and my baby are my family. And I have allies across the world; no matter what you do, you will not be able to turn them all against me." She took Tony's hand and squeezed it for strength.

Her father stared at her in shock for a minute before looking down to their hands and then up to Tony's face. He smirked. "Goodbye, Agent DiNozzo. Enjoy my filthy daughter and your illegitimate child." And he turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving the door wide open.

They stood in silence, Ziva staring at the spot her father had vacated. "Do you need a hug?"

"No. Can we please go to work now?" She looked at him and he smiled.

"Go have a shower and get dressed. We can go to work once we've had breakfast, because I don't know about you but I'm hungry." He grinned as she rolled her eyes and walked towards the bathroom. He grabbed her landline and dialled Gibbs mobile, knowing that he would probably be in the office already. "Gibbs, it's DiNozzo."

 _"Her father causing trouble?"_

"He was. Gone now. She's pretty shaken up about it though."

 _"You want to see if you can keep her away from work today?"_

"No. Actually, I, uh, I was wondering, y'know, seeing as we don't have a case at the moment or anything, if the whole team could take the day off. We could go for a picnic or something. I just…I think she needs to see that we're all gonna be there for her and we're not gonna give up on her. Is that okay?" He kept his voice hushed as he spoke.

 _"I think it's a good idea. I'll see if Abby, Ducky and Jimmy are doing anything and tell McGee to pick up some food on his way in."_

"Great." Tony grinned. "Just…can we keep this as a surprise for her. We'll turn up at the office and you'll tell us we've got a case and then we'll all drive to the park and instead of a crime scene we can have a picnic?"

 _"Sounds like a plan, DiNozzo."_ Gibbs said and Tony could hear the almost-pride in his voice. _"I'll see you when you get in."_

"Thank you, Boss."

* * *

"Baby, tell your mummy to stop worrying." Tony said as they stepped out of the elevator together.

"Tony, the baby cannot talk."

"No. But you can feel baby move now." He pointed out, smiling proudly at her.

"Which, for some unknown reason means I cannot carry my own bag according to you." She glared at him. He had insisted on carrying both of their bags up from the car.

"I'm being a gentleman. Let me be a gentleman." He smiled as they sat down at their respective desks.

"Good morning." Tim smiled as he walked past their desks. His smile faded when he saw Ziva's cheek. "Ziva, what happened?"

She blushed and looked down, biting her lip as she tried to come up with an adequate explanation. "I, uh…"

"Grab your gear, we've got a case." Gibbs said, slamming his phone down. "McGee, you and David take the truck. DiNozzo and I'll follow." He walked over to Ziva and brushed his fingers across the red handprint, sighing quietly. "He shouldn't have done this." He whispered to her and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She nodded and blinked tears away, giving him a weak smile.

"I know."

"Now come on. Time to get to work."

* * *

They sat in a stony silence as they journeyed to the 'crime-scene'. It had been a struggle to get Tony to leave Ziva's side at first, his protectiveness kicked into high gear. But after McGee had promised to keep her safe and some quiet words from Gibbs, he had been persuaded just enough to climb into the drivers side. Gibbs had let Tony drive the Charger, knowing he needed to release his anger. "He hit her, Gibbs."

"I know, Tony. I saw the mark."

"How could he do that?!"

"I honestly don't know."

"She's his daughter. How could a man do that to his daughter?"

"I don't know."

"She sent me away. When he turned up at the door she sent me away. And then I get a phone call at ten o'clock and all I can hear is her crying. And then I saw the mark on her cheek where he hit her. It made me so angry, Gibbs. All I can think about is how I wasn't there to protect her, and I know she was trying to protect us both by sending me away, but I still should have been able to protect her."

"He turned up again this morning?"

"Yeah. I tried to keep her in the bedroom but she's Ziva. She rarely listens." He said quietly, keeping his eyes focused on the road as he replayed the morning's events in his head. "He practically disowned her. Told her she would lose all of her family and friends if she stayed here and kept the baby."

"And what did she say?"

"Told him that you and Jenny and the baby and me were her family." The first hint of a smile showed on Tony's face since he had sat in the car. "She felt the baby move this morning." A real smile grew on his lips now. "I woke up to see her smiling. She looked so happy."

"She probably was. I remember getting a letter from Shannon the first time Kelly kicked. It's an exciting time, Tony."

"I can't feel the baby yet, though." His smiled faltered slightly.

"And you won't be able to for another couple of weeks. You've got to be patient now." Gibbs looked at his senior field agent and smiled. The younger man was growing up, and becoming more and more excited about the baby, something that Gibbs had been expecting as soon as he found out. He wanted to tell him that he would be a fine father, but he knew that he could not. He could tell that Tony still had not told Ziva how he felt about her, and he could still see the way he was trying to hold himself back slightly. He was not even certain what Ziva wanted Tony's role to be in their little unconventional family. So he said the best thing he could. "You're all gonna be fine, DiNozzo. Whatever happens, you're all gonna pull through."

* * *

"You're not going to be needing that." Tony removed the field kit from Ziva's hand as they stood at the back of the MCRT truck.

"Tony, I can carry it fine."

"I didn't say that you couldn't carry it, I said that you wouldn't be needing it. But, you will be needing this." He pulled out a pale blue halter neck sundress and a black swimming costume and handed them to her.

She raised her eyebrows at him and smirked. "I cannot work a crime scene in a dress. Or a swimsuit."

"Then it's a good job you're not going to work a crime scene, isn't it?" He grinned.

"Tony, I refuse to be seated."

"Benched. And you're not. We're going to have fun." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. "Go on, go get changed." He held her hand as she climbed into the back of the truck and closed the doors, giving her some privacy.

"Abby, Ducky and Jimmy have everything set up." McGee said quietly. "Right where you told us to."

"Thanks, McGee. You're a good friend, you know that?" He clapped his hand on the younger agent's shoulder.

"So are you, Tony. You'd sacrifice everything for her, wouldn't you?"

"She's my life, Tim. I have nothing without her, and she doesn't even realise it." He laughed self-depreciatingly.

"I think she does."

"Who does what?" Ziva asked as the back door to the truck swung open.

"Nobody does nothing." Tony smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her down, expelling an 'oof' of breath with the surprise of the added weight.

"I am not that heavy, Tony."

"Oh, yeah? When was the last time you picked yourself up?" She raised her eyebrows at him and he changed the subject. "Come on."

"Where?"

"You'll see." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, nuzzling his face into the side of her head and pressing a light kiss to her hair. "You're beautiful, you know that?" She snorted and shook her head.

"And you are a mature, grown up, serious adult, Tony."

"I was being serious."

"And you think I was not?" She mocked.

"Ziva." He sighed.

"Tony." She looked up at him. "You do not need to be nice to me. I am fine."

"I always have to be nice to you. You're a scary pregnant assassin." He grinned. "Seriously, Ziva, I'm not being nice to you just because I don't think you're okay. I'm being nice to you because you're my friend and that's what friends do."

"You are a good person, Tony. A good friend. Do you know that?" She looked up at him and smiled. "No, I do not think you do know that." They walked down a pathway shrouded by trees in silence until it opened into a large glade. Sunlight reflected off a lake and bounced off the green walls and carpet. The whole team was sat around a picnic hamper and blanket. Abby caught a peach that McGee tossed her as she lounged on the grass in a black bikini, her black lace parasol shading her from the bright sun. Palmer was snoring loudly from where he lay in the shade of one of the larger trees and Ducky and Gibbs sat quietly talking, both wearing hats.

Abby looked up and spotted them. "Ziva!" She leapt up and ran over, hugging the other woman tightly before pulling back and looking at her face sadly. She ran her fingers lightly down the red handprint on Ziva's cheek, giving her another hug. "We love you. All of us." She sent a meaningful look to Tony over her should and he shook his head in warning at her.

"I love you too, Abby. All of you." Abby released her and the three of them made their way over to the blanket where Gibbs, Ducky and McGee were sat. "Did you know about this?" She looked up at Tony, a frown crinkling her forehead. He could not help but think about how cute she looked when she was confused – not something he was thinking of telling her anytime soon. Officer David and 'Cute' were two things that, she at least believed, should never be associated with one another.

"Know about it? Who's idea do you think it was?" Abby asked as she plopped herself down on the grass.

"Well, it wasn't…I mean, everyone else did all the hard work, it was just a suggestion, I…" He shook his head, overcome by a sudden wave of modesty.

"Thank you, Tony."

"Hey, anything for my crazy ninja and her little baby."

* * *

"You see that, Timmy?" Abby grinned as she stood waist deep in the lake. They both looked to the couple at the water's edge, sat side by side, his arm slung casually over her shoulders with their legs outstretched and their feet in the clear water. She would, every so often, place a hand on her small bump and smile. He never averted his eyes from her face.

"He says she felt the baby kick this morning. Before her father." Tim explained.

"I know that. That's not what we're looking at." She rolled her eyes at him like he was stupid.

"Then what are we looking at, Abs?"

She placed her chin on his shoulder and tilted her head slightly so the ends of her black pigtails brushed against his pale skin. "True love."

"Abby, they haven't even slept together." He sighed and she shook her head.

"Exactly. How many women, other than me and his mother, do you think he would be content to just sit with?"

"Good point." He conceded. "But true love has to be mutual."

"Okay, how many men do you think Ziva would be happy to rest her head on their shoulder?"

"None. Gibbs, maybe, at a push."

"Right then. It's true love and you know it, McGee." She grinned and he sighed, having no counterargument. "Come on."

"No, Abs." He grabbed her wrist when she moved towards Tony and Ziva. "If it's true love, you interfering isn't going to help. Let them be, Abby. She's had a tough couple of days. Let them have some time together away from her apartment and away from everyone else, okay?"

She pouted but nodded, wading deeper to swim into the middle of the lake. "You see where he hit her?"

"Yeah."

"He's her father, McGee. How could he do that?"

"I don't know, Abs. They're from a different world to us."

"That's no excuse. No father should ever hit his daughter!"

"Abby, quiet." He commanded, casting a glance back to the shoreline where he could see Ziva's head twitch up in their direction. "I think it messed Tony up, seeing her like that. You know, she's supposed to be unbreakable and invincible, and he found her curled in a ball crying and in pain. He didn't trust me to keep her safe as we drove here this morning." Tim sighed. "I hate seeing them hurting, Abs."

"Me too, Timmy." Abby flung her arms around his neck and tried to comfort him in the only way she knew how – a hug. But it didn't help either of them, because no matter how good Abby was at giving hugs, it would never erase from their memories the image of the red handprint on Ziva's cheek or the glazed over look in her eyes as she leant into Tony's side.

 **I like the little bit of Abby and McGee at the end there. I had an argument with my friend the other day over McAbby. She prefers McAbby over TIVA and is always trying to convince me to write McAbby, but, although there is undeniable chemistry between the characters, I think they really do work better as friends than as a couple, even if they are jealous every so often. I am not against it, by any means, I just simply cannot see a relationship between them working. That is just my honest opinion. Anyway, that really has nothing to do with the story, other than the short conversation at the end of this chapter.**


	9. Chapter Nine

**The first two paragraphs of this chapter are possibly my favourite things that I have ever written. Actually, I like this whole chapter. I do not know why. It is a very sad little insight into their world. I managed to accidently delete it as well, which meant I actually sat in a ball crying for about three hours until I realised that I had been screenshot-ing work to be emailed to someone and I had my screen split, which meant that I could copy it from the screenshot. It is not the first time I have accidently deleted the wrong file.**

 **There are a lot of large-ish chunks in this one, but I could not get it to work any other way, and I do not want to have to change it.**

Chapter Nine

 ** _Monday, September 10_** ** _th_** ** _2007– 23 weeks_**

It was dark in the room as he snaked his arm around her middle, resting his hand on her stomach under the baggy OSU t-shirt she was wearing. His other arm was under her head, pillowing her as she slept. Her skin felt silky under his fingertips as he splayed his digits, smiling when he felt the baby kick, just a gentle tap, but a kick all the same. He liked these moments, these silent moments in the early hours of the morning when the gentle rise and fall of her chest signalled that she was fast asleep and he could just lay there, thinking about what it would be like if the child he felt at his fingertips was actually his. But of course, these thoughts just served to remind him that the child was not his, and he was only there as a friend, because that was all she needed from him. A friend. Her moral support guy. He recalled back to times he had spent in the hospital and he decided that the pain caused by the thought of her having someone else's baby was definitely enough to hospitalise. It was a pain that swallowed him whole, suffocated him in the dark, silent room as she lay in his arms. He shifted closer to her and let the blackness of the room hide his tears as they silently fell onto the cotton of the pillowcase, remembering how her lips had felt against his the night her father had shown up.

* * *

It was his muffled sobs that woke her. Like they had woken her for the past ten nights. He would automatically pretend to be asleep, or pretend he was fine, if she alerted him to her being awake like she had the first three nights. But she knew that in the morning he would wake up with salty tearstains on his face and dark bags under his eyes. She had no idea how to talk to him about it; every time she tried he would change the subject, or make a joke, or pretend he had not heard her. And it hurt. Because she could see he was in pain and she knew it was her fault. She did not know why he was in pain, but in her gut she knew she was the cause, and she also knew that without him telling her what was wrong she was unable to help him. She snuggled further into his body, hoping that for now her presence was enough to calm him in the same way that his presence was enough to calm her: the reason she liked have him next to her as she slept. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as the thumb of the warm hand he had placed on her bump, right over the baby's feet, gently caressed her skin. She moved the hand that had been clasped by her nose, on the pillow just bellow his arm, four inches over so her fingers interlocked with his and her other hand, the hand that had been trapped between her head and his muscular arm, moved down to entwine with the one on her stomach. He gently squeezed her hand, the one on the pillow. He knew that she was awake. She knew that he was awake. They both knew that in the morning it would not be discussed. Not the tangled fingers, not the being awake in the middle of the night, nor the crying. They both knew that tomorrow would be a new day and they would start in one another's arms and end in one another's arms, but apart from that they would be friends. Just friends. And they both knew that in twenty-four hours they would do the same thing again. He would hold her, she would wake when she felt the moisture of his tears seep through the back of her t-shirt, they would both silently vow to forget about the clasped hands and smiles that graced their lips when the felt the tension in the other's body ease slightly at their touch. And they both know that it would be impossible to forget about their feelings, and all they would be able to do is hide it.

* * *

Gibbs watched from the intermediate landing of the stairs from the balcony as his team interacted. Or at least, as Ziva and McGee interacted and Tony continued to focus on something on his desk in front of him. He scowled and blinked, checking that he was seeing correctly – it was usually McGee who was the one glued to his work and Tony and Ziva who were messing about, but clearly not. He was about to yell at them to get back to work when Ziva walked up behind Tony.

"What are you reading?"

"Gah!" Tony jumped, scrambling to cover the book with piles of paper work. "What have I told you about creeping up on me like that?"

"Force of habit." She said distractedly, placing one hand on his shoulder and reaching the other over to look at what he was reading. "What is this?" She held the book up.

"It's just, uh…" He blushed.

"'What to expect when you are expecting'? You are not pregnant are you, Tony?" She joked in an attempt to make it easier for him. She could tell he was embarrassed by the deep scarlet colour his cheeks had taken on.

"No. But you are." He swivelled 90 degrees on his chair and placed his hand on her stomach. His expression was sad as he focused on the fabric of her taut blue t-shirt.

"You do not have to do this, Tony."

"Sure I do. What are friends for, hey?" He shrugged and smiled, realising his hand was still on her bump and pulling away.

"No, wait…" She gripped his wrist and held his hand firmly where it was. His brow crinkled but she just smiled at him.

"Ziva, I…hey, baby just kicked. That was a strong one." He grinned and she nodded.

"Baby likes your voice." She released his wrist and brushed her fingers along the creases running across his cheeks, her smile faltering. "I have been causing you stress."

"Nah, it's…"

"No. Turn around." She commanded, forcing his chair back to face his desk and massaging his shoulders and the back of his neck. "I am worried about you, Tony." She stared straight ahead of her, trying not to lose her nerve. "You only go to your apartment to pay the little boy who feeds your goldfish and to pick up your mail once every two weeks, you have not been on a date since I set you up with the lady who sells me fruit and you always look so tired. I want my old Tony back. The Tony who did not spend his nights worrying about how I am going to cope alone and who looked at every single woman that walked past." She bit her lip and dropped her voice to a whisper. "You cry at night." The tension that had been slowly seeping out of his tight shoulders as she kneaded them returned instantly at her quiet words and she closed her eyes, instantly wishing she had not broached the subject at all.

"I don't. I'm fine. DiNozzo men don't cry." He stood up abruptly, knocking her hands away. He looked hastily around for an excuse to leave the squad room, his eyes falling on the bathroom door. "I've got to go to the head." He hurried off, leaving Ziva stood behind his desk. She made to follow him but stopped when McGee lay a gently hand on her upper arm. She looked at him blankly.

"He is not fine, McGee."

"I know, Ziva. I…I don't have much experience in these areas, but I think…I think it might be easier for him if you don't push it, if you just let him tell you what's wrong in his own time." McGee smiled at her sympathetically, unnerved by how close to tears she looked.

"I am worried about him, Tim."

"Don't be, Ziva. Don't put that added stress on yourself at the moment. DiNozzo will be fine." Gibbs said, walking up to her. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then trust me when I say that he's fine."

"He is not himself."

"He's just trying to screw his head on straight at the moment." He sighed as she frowned. McGee took the subtle nod he gave to suggest that it would be a good time to leave and he headed down to Abby's lab. "None of us can imagine what you're going through at the moment, or what you're gonna go through. But Tony's struggling with this too."

"I know and I do not know why." She looked up at him, her eyes swimming with confusion and her voice cracking under the pressure of tears that threatened to fall. "It is not like it is his child."

"And he knows that." He tilted her face up. "Chin up, Officer David. Stay afloat. If he needs to cry, let him. If he needs someone to talk to, be there for him. And remember that if you need anything from him, he'll be there for you." He moved his hand from her chin to the top of her head. "You're gonna be fine. Both of you."

"Thank you, Gibbs." She nodded slightly. He just smiled and pointed to her desk.

* * *

"Sorry I shouted earlier."

"That is fine. I do not mind." Ziva shook her head and sat on the sofa next to him. He held his arm out, inviting her to curl into his side.

"Come here." She moulded herself to fit neatly into the shape of his body, resting her head on his shoulder. "You should mind when I shout." He pressed his lips to the top of her head, smiling as she wrapped her arms tighter around his torso. "It's strange, y'know. Seeing you pregnant." She looked up at him and frowned. "I guess, I dunno, you're younger than me and I always figured you the less likely out of the pair of us to settle down, and I have this feeling that time is, I dunno, running out."

"You still have plenty of time, Tony. You are not _that_ old. And you are still good with women. You will find your someone to settle down with and have children with and be happy with." She smiled gently, ignoring the way her stomach twisted and knotted at the idea of Tony finding someone to love.

"I think it's too late for that. I've already found her." He said sadly.

"Jeanne." She nodded, her heart sinking further than she thought possible.

"No." He shook his head and her face whipped up to stare at him. "Of course, she would never feel the same way about me. She's too sensible for that." He laughed self-depreciatingly.

"Tell me about her." Ziva asked, shifting her head down so it was rested above his heart, hiding her face from his view. She did not really want to hear about the woman, but she would do anything for him, and if talking about the woman he loved helped him, then she would listen to him.

"Well, she's beautiful, really beautiful, like no other woman. And she's clever, and smart, and funny, and she really does try to get my movie references, even if she isn't always successful. And she knows all of my favourite things, films, foods, colours, music. She always smells really good too." Ziva looked up and gave him a questioning glance before turning back to her original position, trailing her finger in patterns across his chest. "She's good at cooking and she's fits nicely in my arms. Her smile, she has the best smile. It can light up the room. And her laugh sounds like music. And she's so tough and brave on the outside, but when you really get to know her she's so…kind and gentle and loving."

"She sounds perfect." Ziva sighed sadly, closing her eyes to prevent any tears from falling.

"You are." Her eyes were open in a flash and she was backing away from him.

"Tony, that is not funny. Do you think that is funny? Do not make jokes like that." She shook her head, standing up and pacing the room.

"It wasn't a joke." He whispered, offended that she would think he would joke about such a thing. _What do you expect? She knows you Tony, you_ would _joke about such a thing._

 _But I would mean it deep down, it would just be a joke so she didn't know that I meant it._

 _Maybe that's the problem. She's grown too used to your joking attitude that a serious one is just too much to comprehend._

 _But I've been serious for the past few months!_

 _But matters of the heart have still been a joke when you talk about them, haven't they?_

 _I guess…_

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sprung that on you. Not now. Not ever, really. It's inappropriate. I just…forget I said anything, okay. We'll move on like nothing ever happened. I'll be Tony, you'll be Ziva, you'll be pregnant, I'll be a friend helping a pregnant friend. It will all work." He grabbed the glass of orange juice on the table, wishing for the first time since he had been staying there that he had not insisted upon a prohibition of alcohol.

"No." _What?! What are you doing?!_

 _I want him to know that he is not the only one who feels that way._

 _Yes, but he has already decided it is too late for him. Besides, it is Tony; he does not know the meaning of 'commitment' or 'monogamous'. Is that what you really want?_

 _I want Tony._

 _Someone who cannot help but imagine what is down every woman's shirt and up every woman's skirt?_

 _That is what makes him him._

 _Stop making excuses for him._

 _Why?_

 _Because that is all you ever do. You are always trying to justify his actions, telling yourself that it is just Tony, he cannot help it. He can. He is a grown adult._

 _Is that not what love is though? An excuse?_

 _Whoa, whoa, whoa…where did all of this 'love' talk come from? You are worse than a bad chick-flick!_

 _That is something that Tony would say._

 _I know! Stop it! You are putting words in my head._

 _You_ are _my head. Surely the words are already in there?_

 _Oh, do not be so clever!_

"No what?"

"Hm?"

"You said no."

"I did? I did." She nodded, trying to remember what she had been saying before her thoughts had gotten carried away with themselves.

"Yeah, you're right, we should just go on as if I had never opened my big mouth."

"Wait. I never said that."

"That was what the 'no' meant, wasn't it?" He scowled at her. _Wait, does she mean what I think she means?_

 _Of course she doesn't._

 _No, but maybe my unrequited love isn't so unrequited after all._

 _Stop being delusional. She most definitely does not love you._

 _She might._

 _No. Just stop it. You're only gonna get yourself and her and the baby hurt. You don't want that now, do you?_

 _I don't want to hurt her. Or the baby._

 _What about yourself?_

 _I'll do anything for her._

 _Anything? Oh, boy, this is worse than I thought. Don't be a reckless fool._

 _Since when have I been a reckless fool?_

 _Since you fell in love. Actually, since you met her. Look, listen to me Tony, she's got a lot on her plate at the moment, even if she does for some strange reason have feelings for you, you can't push her. Don't expect anything from her. It's for your good as much as it is for her._

 _Can you just stop bossing me about. Gibbs told me to go with my gut._

 _I would suggest going with your brain to be a better tactic._

 _That's just because you are my brain. You would say that._

 _And right now your gut's telling you that you want pizza. Is that really the authority you want to go with?_

 _Well, I do like pizza…_

 _Dear God…please focus on the topic at hand._

 _I'm trying, you keep distracting me!_

 _Well, she's about to talk, so stop looking like a brainless idiot and pay attention._

"No. No meant that we need to talk about what you just said. Because it is important."

"Look, Ziva, it's fine. I know how to hide my feelings, God knows that I've been doing so for long enough, and it won't come between us at all, so you really can just forget what I said. I guess…I don't really need to get married and have kids, 'cause if I do then I won't have as much time to be cool uncle Tony for little Baby David, which is what I really want to do, and it means that I won't have as much time to be your best friend, and I guess if all you want is friendship then I'm good with being your best friend…"

"Tony, for once in your life will you just shut up and listen." She sat back down next to him, placing her hand on his thigh. "Do you…do you really not see me pining for you every day?" She stared at him, watching as his eyes flickered across her face. "Do you really not see me longing for you every day? Do you really not see the pain it causes when I see you with someone else?"

"Well, I thought that was just my mind making you look at me like that. I thought I was just going crazy."

"No. Not crazy. Well, maybe a little, but…" She shook her head and smiled softly. "That is why you kissed me the other week? Before my father? I thought you were just being you."

"Oh, I was. I was disobeying the little voice in my head that told me not to." He laughed. "But you looked so beautiful and I couldn't help myself."

"You have not tried since."

"You didn't mention it. I figured you just wanted to forget about it."

"I did not think anybody had ever kissed Antony DiNozzo and regretted it." She smirked, ignoring the fact that both of their minds flashed back to Jeanne. She studied his face for a moment, making certain that he had returned to the present before reaching up slowly, entwining her hands in his hair and pressing her lips to his. He slid his hands up to her waist as she shifted herself so she was kneeling on the sofa next to him. She ran her hands down the back of his head, along his shoulders and down his chest, hooking her finger around his top shirt button.

He pulled his lips away and held her face inches away from his. "Only if you want to."

"Tony, if I did not want to you would be in a writhing ball of pain on the floor."

"That is a very fair point." He chuckled, pulling her head back down so their lips met again. She pulled his shirt out from where it was tucked into his trousers and continued to unbutton the pale blue cotton. "Not here." He mumbled, his voice muffled by her mouth. "Bedroom."

"I thought you said you liked my couch."

"I like your bed more." He stood, pulling her up with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he picked her up, moving her lips to his neck to give him a clear line of sight so he could walk.

"Sorry. I am slightly heavier."

"Not a problem." He shook his head. "I barely noticed." He laid her carefully down on the bed and sighed. "I don't want to hurt you, Ziva."

"And you will not. I trust you, Tony." She smiled, reaching her hand up to caress his face and pulling his head back down so their lips could meet again.

* * *

"Okay, you've been sat there staring at your hands for an hour. What's wrong?" Ziva looked up and then back down at her hands. "Ziva. Hey! What's wrong?"

She exhaled and her shoulders slumped. "Nothing, Abby. I am fine."

"No, you're not."

Ziva groaned and bit her lip. "Last night, Tony and I…there…me…I…he…we…" She could tell Abby, right?

"Oh, my God! You and Tony had sex!"

"What?! No! Abby, please be quiet! No! Wait, how do you know?!" She stared at her friend in shock.

"It's written all over your face. This is what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes." She nodded then shook her head. "No. I do not know. Abby, everything is so…confusing." She paused and looked up at her.

"Well, what does Tony say?"

"I do not know. I left before he even woke up this morning."

"And that's why you've been down here dodging him all day. Gibbs is covering for you?"

"Yes." She nodded solemnly. "I cannot face him."

Abby decided to changed the subject slightly in a hope to lighten the mood. "Well…how was it?"

"If you think I am going to relay all of the explicit details, you are grossly mistaken."

"Not _all_ the explicit details. Just the best parts." She grinned and Ziva sighed.

"It was amazing."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I think…I worry that last night was, for him, just a one-time thing. I mean, he has not been with anyone since mid June. Tony DiNozzo does not usually go that long without sex."

 _Tony DiNozzo does not usually fall in love with his best friend, but he has._ Abby thought. "I don't think he would do that."

"Abby, do not lie to me to make me feel better, because it will not help."

"I'm not lying." She tried to smile honestly, but Ziva refused to look at her. Her gaze was instead focused on her bump and the light patterns she was drawing on it with her fingers.

"You cannot tell anybody about this, Abby. And you must promise that you will not bring this subject up again. It shall never be discussed and we can go back to normal." Ziva said, slipping off the table.

"Wait, you're going to pretend that none of last night happened?"

"It is the only way to avoid getting hurt."

"No, it's not. Talk to Tony."

"I cannot do that. I need Tony as a friend." She shook her head, turning to leave.

"Why can't you have him as a lover too?"

"Because then it might end, and without Tony I have nobody to help me."

Abby's face took on a sad, compassionate expression as she ran over and threw her arms around Ziva. "Oh, Ziva! You have all of us. Remember that you'll always have all of us. And I don't think you will lose Tony, no matter what happens. I just think you need to talk to him."

The pregnant woman pulled away, her expression set to one that held no emotion. "No, Abby. I would be grateful if you could let it be now. I do not want to hear one word on the subject." Abby watched as her friend walked out of the lab, pausing and leaning against the doorframe to the abnormally silent room, her shoulders shuddering with silent tears as she kept one hand on her bump where the baby kicked and one hand gripping the doorframe, her back turned away from Abby. The scientist wanted to run over and hug her and comfort her, but she knew that she would just make it worse by making a big deal out of it, so she bowed her head and averted her eyes whilst her friend tried to regain her composure.

 **So the conversation between Abby and Ziva takes place on September 11** **th** **, not 10** **th** **, but I do not have enough chapters to put it in its own separate one.**


	10. Chapter Ten

**It has been a mentally trying few days and I cannot wait for the three days I get off over Christmas.**

 **I absolutely hate the last section of this. I hate its placement and I hate how it sounds and I simply hate it, but I could not for the life of me rewrite it to work.**

Chapter Ten

 ** _Monday, September 24th 2007– 25 weeks_**

"Yo, Duck Man, you down here?!" Tony called as he walked into Autopsy.

"Of course I am down here. Where else would I be, Anthony?" Ducky was sat staring intently at a body on a slab. "What can I help you with?"

"Nothing, just thought I should come down here, check on how things are, how you're doing."

"Hmm… I would hazard a guess that you are down here because our dear Ziva has kicked you out of the squad room. Third time this month."

"When are the mood swings gonna stop, Ducky?" He whined, sounding exhausted and Ducky looked at him with pity.

"A few months yet, dear boy. She hasn't stopped ignoring you yet?"

"No." He shook his head and climbed up onto the slab next to the one the body was on. She had been ignoring him ever since she left the morning after their night of lovemaking. After the first two nights sleeping next to her had felt uncomfortable, especially when she flinched at his touch, he had moved back onto her couch. He just wanted to know what was wrong. She would not even tell him that. "I want to help her, Ducky. I really do. I want to be there for her, but it's so hard."

"I know." He walked over and patted Tony's shoulder.

"Do you think I hurt her? Do you think that's why she can barely stand to look at me?" Ducky knew what he was talking about. After she had kicked him out of the bullpen the first time, he had gone down to Ducky and explained everything.

"No, Dear Boy. I think she's very confused at the moment. She's trying to work out whether you're really going to be there for her, and I think she's struggling with the idea that you really do want more than just sex." Little did Tony know that Ducky was not only his confidant; Abby had, on many occasions over the past weeks, visited Autopsy with concerns for the couple, along with McGee and almost every other individual in the building (although many of the concerns of others did not revolve around the couple – Ducky simply always seemed to be the best person when it came to solving personal problems. And case related problems. Just problems, really).

"But of course I am there for more than just sex! I thought she knew that!"

"And I think she probably does, deep down, but you have to remember that that is not a concept that comes easily to her. She has spent her whole life only seeing things as business transactions. A favour for a secret, a secret for a favour. To her the idea that you could want nothing more than her love is alien. She is trying to work out what you gain from it." He explained, pouring two cups of tea. "For her, love is such an abstract concept that is forbidden. Her father taught her that love was a weakness, so she thinks that loving you, and allowing you to love her back, makes her very weak indeed. Of course, we both know that is not true, but even if she comes to accept that it is not a weakness, she will take a lot of time to get out of the habit of telling herself it is."

"I'm worried about her."

"Officer David can take care of herself."

"You believe that crap, Ducky?" He snapped. "Sorry." He sighed when the older man did not even look hurt. The pathologist had grown used to his harsh temper after the increase in hours he had been spending in Autopsy.

"That's quite alright, Anthony. You are under a lot of stress. As to whether I believe that Officer David can take care of herself…" He paused and sat back down next to the body. "She knows how to fight. She knows how to kill. She knows how to defend herself. She knows how to stick up for herself. Now she knows how to investigate. She's learning to sympathise. As to whether she can take care of herself as a mother, a single mother at that, I am not so sure. As I have told Jethro, Ziva is a fast learner and fast to adapt. But that does not mean that we cannot worry about her."

"You think we've got cause to worry about her?"

"Do you?"

* * *

"Sorry little one. I know, I know. There was no need to kick me now, was there?" Ziva sighed, one hand on her bump as she stretched up to the top shelf of the cupboards in the break room. She was as close to the counter as she could get with her stomach in the way. Her fingers grazed the new pack of paper towelling, only serving to push it back further into the recesses of the cupboard. "Damn!" She dropped back down from her tiptoes and ran the hand, which had been reaching up, over her face. "You know, I never had a problem reaching that shelf before I got pregnant. You are too big, baby." She knew she was not as big as she was going to get, and that thought made her groan. The hand on her stomach shifted slightly and she let out a small, sharp breath. "Do not worry, Baby. I know you are still there. You sure know how to kick."

"Just like his mother." Gibbs said from behind her, a smile in his voice. He nudged her out of the way and plucked the paper towels out of the cupboard.

" _Her_ mother. I am having a girl." She glared at him. They had this debate every day.

"Whatever you say." He just shrugged and turned so his back was leaning against the counter, proffering the pack of paper towelling. "It's okay to ask for help, y'know."

"Gibbs, I do not need any help."

"Everyone needs a little help from time to time. You're no exception to that." He smiled. "You're a strong, confident, beautiful young woman, Ziva, and I know that you've been through stuff that most people couldn't even imagine, but even then, you can't do this alone."

"Gibbs…"

"Ziva. Let him help you. Don't shut him out."

"What? Who? Tony?! I do not shut him out!"

"Two weeks ago you were upset because _he_ was shutting _you_ out. Now that he has opened up to you, you're shutting him out. Why?"

"I have coped for my whole adult life on my own. I just do not think that using him as a crotch…"

"Crutch."

"Thank you. I do not think using Tony as a crutch will be beneficial. To anyone. Particularly not when in a few months he will realise what he is doing and come to his senses. He is practically living with me and he will not want that when there is a baby waking up screaming every few hours. What happens when he wants to bring a girl home, Gibbs? It has not happened yet, but sooner or later it will. I do not think I can…I just…I…" She took a shuddering breath. "Gibbs, have you ever…has it ever been so tight, in here," she tapped her heart, "and it hurts so much every time that…every look it just…but you know you have already screwed it up and…you cannot…but he…then it…and…" She dissolved into a pool of tears. "…Gibbs…"

"Come here." He wrapped his arms around her trembling form. "You love him." It was not a question, it was a statement. She froze. "It's okay. I know. I know." He soothed, holding her as he would have held Kelly as she sobbed into his shirt.

She took a deep breath. "It is true. I love him." She extracted herself from his embrace and backhanded the saline streams that were moistening her cheeks. "But it is too late now. What is done is done and there is nothing more to do." She nodded. "I will get back to work now."

"Ziva…" He started, but she had already left. The pair of them really were hopeless.

* * *

Gibbs had been right. And she missed him. That was what had made her wrap her arms around his middle and guide him towards her bedroom that night when he had been making up the couch. It was what made her curl up in his arms and fall asleep instantly, unlike the hours that she had spent trying to get to sleep for the past few weeks. They had not spoken – they did not have the need to. They communicated perfectly without speaking, and the sounds of their voices would have simply ruined everything as she coiled up next to his body, using him as her personal comfort blanket, wrapping herself in him, surrounding herself with his scent and warmth. She slipped into her peaceful slumber with him stroking her hair, running his fingers through her glossy brown curls, and pressing kisses to the crown of her head every so often.

In the morning when they woke, things would not be back to normal, but they would be on the mend. They would be talking, although they would not mention what had happened two weeks beforehand, and they would be slightly more distant from one another than everyone else was used to seeing them, causing some worry and concern within the Navy Yard, however they would be as close to the rough approximation of normal that they had maintained for the past four months as they could be whilst still avoiding all topics of conversation that could lead them to places that had the potential to cause pain and distress.

 **I do not like that last section. I think it is poorly written and really not well placed. However, there have to be some oddly placed sections for the storyline to make sense, otherwise they are jumping from situation to situation with no consistency. And with a limit of only 24 chapters, meaning only 24 days, 23 because August 19th had two chapters, I have to work out a way to summarise two years of their life. I have to say, it is not as easy as I had hoped. At the moment, as I write this author's note on July 8th 2016, I have 14 chapters written up, which only takes us up to Christmas, and then I have the final chapter written up, which means that I have to fit a year and a half into 9 days.**


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

 ** _Tuesday, October 2_** ** _nd_** ** _2007 – 26 weeks_**

"Guys, I can't. I'm sorry." Tony said into his phone, keeping his voice low. He stood looking out of the window across the Navy Yard.

 _"Aw, come on, man! You've been busy for the past five games! What is it? You got an injury at work or something? We can't keep having you bail out on us!"_

"I really am sorry, it's just kind of complicated. I really wish I could be there."

 _"Well why can't you?!"_

"I…it's not something that's easy to explain." He bit his lip as Ziva walked over, standing in front of him and leaning against the glass. _Who is it?_ She mouthed and he just shook his head. She glared and reached up, plucking the phone out of his hand and putting it to her ear.

"Who is this?"

 _"Er, Tom…who's this?"_

Her sudden flare of jealousy faded, replaced with curiosity. "Ziva. What do you want with Tony?"

 _"I want him to come to the game tonight. He's missed the last five."_ She looked up at him and raised her eyebrows.

"Games of what?"

 _"Basketball. Look, not meaning to be rude, but who are you?"_

"Ziva. Why has he missed the past five games?"

 _"I've got no idea! Up until four months ago he hadn't missed a single game or practice, and then all of a sudden he calls me up and says he's busy, and he's been busy ever since. Look, we just want to know that he's okay, he's not ill or anything."_

"Tony is not ill. Although, I do not think he will be able to use most of his fingers for a long time if I get my hands on him." She growled and he looked down guiltily. "He will be there tonight. Do not worry. I will make sure of it."

 _"Great. He will have full use of all of his fingers though, won't he? I mean, we kinda need that."_

"Then I will not break his fingers until after the game." She snapped the mobile shut and passed it back, a stern look on her face. "I told you not to let your life stop because of me and you promised that it would not. You promised that you had nothing better to be doing than 'looking after me', which you know that I do not need."

"I would rather be looking after you than playing basketball." He shrugged meekly.

"You lied to me!"

"No, I didn't. I didn't." He held a finger up to explain himself. "My life didn't stop. You're more important than basketball. Let me cancel."

"No." She stood her ground. "You will go and play basketball tonight. If I need anything I will call Abby or Gibbs."

Tony grumbled as she marched over to her desk before his face lit up. "Come with me."

Ziva laughed. "I do not think I will be very good at playing basketball in the state that I am, Tony."

"No, come watch. If I have to play, you have to come with me." He sat down opposite her and grinned.

"Okay." She nodded. He would have to admit that he had expected slightly more protesting.

"Right, well, we'll need to be there for seven. It might be a late night, but I'll ask Gibbs if he doesn't mind a slightly later start tomorrow so you can sleep in."

"Tony, you do not need to cuddle me."

"Everyone needs a little cuddle sometimes, Sweetcheeks." He winked at her and she frowned. "You don't want to be coddled."

"I wish to be neither cuddled, nor coddled." She shook her head, turning back to the cold case she was typing up. _Although,_ her mind thought, _a little cuddle would not go amiss._

 _Oh, shut up. Stop being so…soppy. You sound like one of his skirts._

 _I wish I were._

 _No, you do not. You are Ziva David. You do not need him._

"You okay? You're staring at me." Tony said, making her jump.

"Fine. Just fine."

" _Just_ fine? You sure you don't want that cuddle?" _Please say you want the cuddle._

"I am sure, Tony." She rolled her eyes and turned back to her screen, ignoring him as he tried to persuade her to have a hug.

* * *

"You just have to sit up there and cheer when I get a ball through the hoop. Or when anyone from my team does." He smiled at her. "If you need anything then you can come down. I'll stop playing if you need."

"No, that is not fair. I will not need anything. Except maybe the head. Where do I go when I need the bathroom?"

"Er…just through those doors and down the corridor. Now, this isn't the sort of place where you can just walk into the men's room and no-one will bat an eyelid." He joked and she hit him round the back of the head.

"Gibbs has the elevator, why am I not allowed a conference room of my own?" She pouted.

"Because you're not supposed to be in there!" He cried. "I need to go and get changed. You gonna be okay here?"

"I will be fine. Go. Go!" She laughed when he would not leave. "Go, Tony!" She shook her head and walked up the tiered seating, perching herself on the furthest end of one of the benches.

"Hi. You're here with Tony?" A woman sat behind her leaned forwards and looked at her curiously.

"Yes."

"So you and he are…"

"Friends." She interrupted.

"Oh. Right. It's just that your pregnant and…"

"The baby is not Tony's. He is just a friend. We work together."

"Oh. See, he never brings anyone along. All the other guys, they always bring their girlfriends or their wives, but not Tony. You know, I've never seen him with a woman before. I always had a suspicion he might be gay."

Ziva chuckled and shook her head. "Tony is definitely not gay. Trust me."

"So you and he have…"

"No…I mean, we have, but we are not…it is very complicated…Tony and I spend much of our time together…no, Tony is not gay." She was interested in the fact that Tony didn't seem to flaunt his womanising characteristics here.

"I'm Kathy." She stuck her hand out and Ziva accepted.

"Ziva."

"Do you know where he's been for the last couple of months? He hasn't been here and we were all getting kinda worried. The guys are like a group of brothers, and for Tony to not tell them…" She did not seem to be a fan of finishing sentences.

"I am afraid he has been looking after me. I keep telling him that I do not need him to look after me, but he insists." She sighed, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "He is good like that."

"You're sure you're nothing more than friends?"

"Yes." Ziva nodded and bit her lip.

"You don't sound convinced." The woman was tenacious.

Ziva ran her hand through her loose curls and snorted quietly. "Maybe that is because I do not want to be convinced."

"I don't follow."

"Me either." She shook her head. "A few weeks ago, he and I slept together and it is all so confusing. I do not know what his intentions are." She watched as Tony came back, changed into his kit, and started warming up with the rest of the team, smiling when he looked up at her.

"Do you…have feelings for him?"

"What? No!" She shifted uncomfortably, blushing slightly. Where was her Mossad training when she needed it?

"You do, don't you?" Kathy grinned and climbed over the bench so she was sat next to her.

"No, no I…" She shook her head. Her face fell when she looked at Kathy and realised she was not fooling anybody.

"How long have you felt that way about him?" The woman questioned sympathetically.

"I do not know. There has been this…connection between us, you know, since we met, and there had always been this tension, but… A year or so ago, our boss, he left us, left Tony in charge, and we grew close. I think…I think that it was when it started. I mean, I do not really recall, but we were spending so much time together, more time than I had ever spent with anybody else, and I really thought, you know, we were getting somewhere, but then…we both had work and he especially so…and every second I was around him it was more painful than the last, because these feelings, they were growing stronger, but he was fading from me at the same rate, falling in love with another woman, and no matter how hard I tried, he never saw me." She stroked the side of her bump, looking down at her stomach with a thoughtful expression. "And then one night I could not take it any longer and I was drunk and I met Matthew, and this happened." She placed a hand on her round stomach and sighed. "And Matthew was killed, and then Tony practically moved in with me and then we slept together and I do not know what he thinks about it and I expect nothing of him, because I do not deserve him and…" She rubbed her temples and sighed. "It is a mess."

"I don't think it sounds so bad. I've heard worse. I mean, there's always someone with a relationship more complicated or more messed up than your own, even if it doesn't feel like it." Kathy smiled at her, a kind, wide smile. She had dead-straight auburn hair and pale skin flecked with thousands of freckles. Her eyes were bright and Ziva felt that when she looked into them, everything was being brought out into the open, whether she wanted it to or not. "Have you spoken to him about it?"

"No. It is not something that is easy to talk about."

"I can see that." Her new friend nodded. "But I still think you should. He needs to hear how you feel and he needs to know what you want. Even if he doesn't want the same thing, you still need to tell him."

"I do not…no, I cannot." She shook her head. "No. No, no."

Kathy sighed and shook her head. "Can't because you're scared?"

"I am not scared of Anthony DiNozzo." She looked at the frown on the redhead's face. "What?"

"I believe you. I don't think you're scared of Tony, but I think you are scared. You're scared of everything that could go wrong. You don't know what will happen if you talk to him, and that scares you – even if something good could happen."

"Could." She interrupted. "Or could not."

Kathy watched as the men started playing, cheering when her husband, Tom, managed to score. Ziva joined in, surprising herself by finding she was enjoying herself. "Life's all about taking risks."

"But there are some risks which are not worth it."

"Oh, I don't know. Think about how happy you'll be."

"And think about how much it will hurt me when he realises that he does not want me."

"I don't think he would ever intentionally hurt you."

"So you are saying he would stick around even if he is unhappy just so he will not hurt me?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that he would never do anything to hurt you. Sticking around when he did not want to would hurt you, and I think he knows that. Besides, he's stuck by you for this long." Ziva looked down and sighed, not wanting to have to admit that the woman sat next to her was correct.

* * *

"So, you're sleeping together, but the kid's not yours?" Isaac raised his eyebrows. "I'm confused."

"Yeah, well, you never could understand meaningful relationships." Tom sniggered as they all changed in the changing rooms after winning. "Your longest relationship lasted five hours."

"Hey, that's unfair! It was five and a half hours, and it was her who ended it!"

"That's because you know nothing about women!" One of the other men called out.

"I'll have you know that I am very wise on the subject of women. I know what they like, and what they really, really like." He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

"And they really, really like you." All the men chorused, accompanied with eye-rolls, having heard the speech before.

"We had sex once, guys. That's not sleeping together."

"You said you were sleeping together."

"No, I said we slept together."

"I'm certain you said sleep."

"Yeah, sleep as in closing ones eyes and letting darkness take over."

"I think I'm even more confused." Isaac murmured and shook his head.

"You're not the only one." Someone else muttered.

"Look, she's my best friend. We spend the night together – it means she's got someone there if she needs someone. Besides, she's an amazing cook, how else am I supposed to get a good dinner every night." He shrugged, trying to deflect all of the questions and knowing that it was as futile as resistance.

"So, why've we never heard about her, Tony?"

"A more pressing question is why've we never met her? I mean, you've known her for, what, three years? We expect an introduction to any good-looking women you meet, so why have I not been introduced?" Isaac feigned offence.

"Because I know you all, and I know that Isaac would either offend her or try and get her into bed immediately." Tony said as he folded his kit into his bag. One of the other guys, James, grabbed his wrist and laughed.

"Hey, she's even got him folding his clothes!"

"I've always folded my clothes!" Tony protested, staring confusedly at the neat square of fabric in his hand.

"Dude, you've never folded your clothes. She's converted you – you're as good as married!" Tom laughed, clamping his hand over his shoulder.

"This is exactly why you've never met her. She's just my friend, and she doesn't look at me in that way, so if you could keep the marriage talk to a minimum, that would be great. I don't want you guys to ruin it."

All the men grew serious. "She doesn't look at you like that, but do you look at her like that?"

He bit his lip, scratching the side of his nose with his finger. "Yeah."

"Then tell her."

"I tried. I tried, and I failed."

"Try again. Keep trying, Tony." Isaac said. "If I had that chance, do you think I'd really stick with one night stands and five hour long relationships?" Tony sighed and sat down on the bench that lined the wall of the tiled room. "Look, I still don't understand what it is you have with her, and to be honest I don't think I ever will, but even I can see that it's not enough. You want more with her, and no matter what you think, I reckon she wants more too."

"No offence, but I don't think I'm desperate enough to be taking advise from you on women, Isaac." He shook his head and stood up, grabbing his bag. "I'll figure it out, okay. Just…don't spread all your gossip about Ziva, she's worth more than that."

"Wait, you're not coming to the after-game drink?"

"Ziva's six months pregnant. That means no alcohol." He shrugged as he left the room. "I'll see you next week."

"Aww, our little boy's growing up." Tom laughed before turning back to his own bag and making certain it was all folded neatly so Kathy could not complain.

* * *

"You played very well tonight, Tony." Ziva smiled, almost shyly, as she unlocked her front door and looked up through her lashes at Tony who was lounging against the wall of the corridor.

"Why, thank you." He grinned at the compliment, giving a small bow. "You looked like you were getting on with Kathy and the other women." They walked into her apartment and flicked the lights on.

"Well, they all had a lot to say about you." She smirked as he paled slightly.

"Oh, dear God, what poison have they put into your mind? Don't listen to any of it, it's all lies."

"Actually, they were all very flattering." She shrugged as he walked into the kitchen, loading his kit into the washer. "Although, there was one thing that I found…curious." She called through.

"What?" His voice went squeaky out of what could only be described as nervousness.

"Well, they all say that you have never, until today, taken a woman to your games. Apparently you do not even talk about women."

"Well, I don't want to be giving the guys all my dating secrets, do I?" He grinned, poking his head into the living room to where Ziva was finishing folding a pile of washing, and winked before turning away again. "No, there's only one woman who's worth telling people about, and you have to meet her to really get how amazing she is. I guess now they've met you, I can tell them about you."

She stopped what she was doing, freezing in the middle of folding one of his shirts. "Well, I do not think I am worth mentioning to them."

"You're the only one who's ever been worth mentioning." He said quietly, so quietly that even straining to hear she was certain that she had imagined him saying it. And because she was uncertain, she stayed silent as she finished folding. She rubbed circles on the side of her stomach and pinched the bridge of her nose with her other hand. "Hey, you okay?"

"Hm? Yes. Fine." She nodded, picking up the neat pile of laundry.

"Here, let me take that."

"No, I am fine."

"Ziva, please. Let me." He carefully removed them from her hands and walked through to the bedroom, putting all of the clothes away without needing to be prompted.

She leaned against the doorframe and watched him. "Why are you doing this, Tony?"

"What do you mean? I'm putting the laundry away because it needs to be put away."

"Why are you staying with me?" He looked up at her and she refused to meet his eyes.

"We've been through this. You know why I'm here." He stared at her. "I'm here because I don't want to be anywhere else. I don't want to be around anyone else." He made it across the room to her in two steps, tilting her chin up so she was looking at him. Her whole expression was filled with sorrow.

"You should find someone who actually deserves you, Tony." A sad smile tugged at the corner of her lips and she turned away, stopping when Tony caught her forearm, pulling her gently to face him and looping his arm around her waist. He brushed his lips lightly across hers before leaning his forehead on hers and shaking his head slightly. "I don't want anyone else. I couldn't care less whether you think you deserve me or not – it means nothing to me. All that matters is that you feel the same way about me as I do about you. Do you?" He had been stroking her cheekbone with his thumb throughout his speech and now his movement ceased so he could brush a tear from the corner of her eye. Her nod was so subtle that he did not think he would have known her response had his forehead not been pressed against hers. "I want to spend my life with you, Ziva. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, but…" She pulled away from him. "Gibbs will not be happy."

"Do you think I would still have a head for him to slap if he was unhappy?"

"I…what about rule twelve?"

"Doesn't apply." He shrugged as her brow furrowed. "Do you…do you want the same thing, Ziva? Because if not then I will never bring it up again, but if you do then please stop making excuses."

She shook her head. "You have the worst timing, DiNozzo." Her voice was choked up as she tried to distance herself with the use of his surname.

"I know. I always have."

"Why could you not have told me this a year ago? Before...before Matthew and before the baby, Tony?" Tears sparkled in her eyes.

"You know why I couldn't, but I wanted to. Every day, I wanted to." His words were quiet, and she looked into his eyes, seeing what truth she could find in them.

"Romance between co-workers, it never works."

"Does any romance ever work? Really work? I don't think so. You need something there, something…difficult to work through, else it's just boring." A ghost of the usual DiNozzo grin tugged at his mouth. "And God knows we have enough excitement in our lives. And I think it really would just be a whole lot less effort if we combined that life, make it one big life of excitement. I think that would make more sense."

"No, Tony. What if it does not work, if we do not work? I cannot put myself in that position. I cannot put my baby in that position."

"But it will work. I'll make it work. Please, just let us try?"

"It is too big of a risk."

"So's life, Ziva. Everything's a risk, you just have to be brave enough to take it." He clasped her hands in his, pleading with her. "Be brave, Ziva. Please?"

"And when it goes wrong? When we break up? What then?"

"I'm not going to let that happen. I'm not letting go of you once I have you, Ziva. Do you understand me? We're always going to have difficulties, and there are always going to be fights, but there are already, and we're just going to have to work through them, the same as we already do now."

"I do not know, Tony. It…" She struggled to control the tears that streamed down her cheeks as she leant forwards, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around him as he tenderly caressed her back.

"I shouldn't have pushed you. I'm sorry." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her as close as possible in a careful embrace as she cried.

"No, it is I who am sorry, Tony." She sniffed, pulling away and swiping her eyes dry. "You are right, we need to talk about this."

"No, not tonight. Not if you don't want to." He watched as she closed her eyes, waiting for the chocolate orbs to look back up at him. When they did he felt his heart break at the mix of emotions in them.

"We need to talk about this." She took his hand cautiously and led him away from the doorway where they had been standing, over to the bed. She sat down, cross-legged atop the duvet, and he sat opposite, mirroring her, their knees touching.

"It doesn't matter, Ziva. I can forget these feelings." He tried to smile confidently at her, taking both her hands in his and holding them together.

"Feelings do not just go away. They only get more and more intense as the pressure builds. And they become heavy and a burden, and we have to live with them, along with added things like jealousy and aloneness. If you truly have these feelings, then they will not just go away."

"Yeah, well, they'll have to, won't they? Ziva, I do not want to ruin anything. I like what we have now. If that's all I'm allowed, then I am fine with that. I'll take what I can get."

"It is not healthy, living like that. Not for either of us." She looked down at their entwined hands, wondering whether if their hands were not so compatible, if they did not feel so comfortable with their fingers tangled together, then their attraction would not be so strong, the force that bound them together less powerful than the magnets used in the Maglev trains. "Tony, I need you to understand why I am saying no." She inhaled and looked up at him. "I am saying no because I do not want to waste you, Tony. No matter how much I feel for you, you deserve someone better than me. And I cannot risk myself. You…I do not believe you would make a mess of a relationship, but I would. I would butcher it like I butcher idioms, and I do not want to hurt you like that."

"What if I had faith in you?"

"I would say you are a fool."

"I think we all knew that a long time ago, though."

"You are not a fool, Tony. You are a good, kind man. You are loving and caring and funny and gentle." She closed her eyes, resisting the temptation to reach up and run her fingers down his jawbone. "And I do not know why someone like you would ever want to be with someone like me. I am a killer. I have taken so many lives, Tony."

"But you are still good. If you weren't then Gibbs would have kicked you to the curb years ago."

"No. He would have sent me back to Israel."

"Well, we should be glad he saw the good in you then." Tony smiled, tilting her chin up and studying her face. "Very glad indeed." He brushed his thumb along her lips, hesitating slightly and giving her time to pull away if she wanted as he placed a feather-light kiss upon her pink lips.

She rested her head in the crook of his neck, shaking it slightly. "What are we doing, Tony?"

"We're taking life as it comes. Making our own way through."

"I like the sound of that." She whispered softly. "Can we just…take it slow?"

"We can go at our own pace."

"Tony?"

"Ziva?"

"How is this going to work? We are not going to be a normal family."

"We don't have to conform to any stereotypes, anyone's idea of perfect. We're our own perfect. We can create our own definition of family."

"I think we already have."

"Besides," he twirled a strand of hair in his fingers. "Who want's normal anyway?"

"Certainly not me." She said sleepily as she shifted so she was leaning into his side, her eyes drooping closed. He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and moving so they were laying down together.

"However, just to set the record straight – you definitely deserve someone better than me more than I deserve you."

 **I was watching an NBA Basketball game between the Portland Trail Blazers and the Golden State Warriors on the television of the pub I was at when I wrote this. I had never seen a basketball game before and I must admit that it was very interesting.**

 **The start of the conversation in the men's locker room was actually inspired by a lot of the conversations between the group of friends I spend the most time with, all men. I am generally an honorary man when I am with them for those conversations, seeing as they have all been a group of friends for quite a while, and I am the only woman to have ever been accepted into their "club", as they call it, and I told them that just because I do not have a Y chromosome, I do not see why I should be excluded from their gossip. They honestly gossip more than I remember my mother doing at her coffee mornings when I was younger.**


	12. Chapter Twelve

**I broke my rule number one today. I watched season ten episodes that I have banned myself from watching. Let us see what I watched. Extreme Prejudice, Shabbat Shalom, Shiva, Berlin, all the ones that I have cried at during some point throughout the episode. Coupled with the films that I watched on my day off yesterday whilst doing the housework (Dead Poets Society, Casablanca, Chinatown, all films that I cry at), it has been a couple of days crying at fictional characters.**

Chapter Twelve

 ** _Friday, November 16th 2007 – 32½ weeks_**

"I do not know, I just did not like it."

"I don't think DC has any more properties for sale. I swear we've looked at every single two bedroom house and apartment in Virginia." Tony grumbled.

"I did not feel comfortable in it."

"And you're comfort is what it's all about." He nodded and took her hand, pressing his lips to the back. "We do need to find somewhere for you, though. You and baby need somewhere to live."

"Tony, I have been thinking… You practically live with me anyway, and we are working very well as a couple and, uh, I mean, if you do not think it is a good idea then it would not work and we do not have to, but, I mean, it is pointless you paying the rent for your apartment when you are never there. I mean, of course, if you think it is a bad idea then it does not matter, and you can forget that I asked, but…"

"Are you asking me to move in with you, Ziva David?" He grinned.

"Yes. Only if you want to." She blushed.

"I think it is a very good idea indeed." He grinned, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand again. She sighed with relief. "Is that what you've been worried about?"

"We should be getting back." She changed the subject, not wanting to admit weakness.

" _I_ should be getting back. You're on maternity leave." Tony smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"But it is so boring. Jen will not notice if I just…sit at my desk."

"Yes, she will." He laughed and, leaning across the little table, pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her cheek.

"Mm-mm." She shook her head as they both stood up. "You are not getting away that easily." She looped her arms around his neck, capturing his lips with hers, smiling when his hands rubbed circles on her swollen stomach.

"And I am very glad of that." He grinned, dropping a light kiss to her nose. "Go home. Rest. Read a book. Watch a film. Play the piano." She pouted and shook her head. "Yes, Ziva."

"Fine." She huffed. "But first, I am going to the head. Baby is tap-dancing on my bladder."

"Sounds fun." He chuckled. "I'll wait here." He sat back down at the little table in the alfresco seating area outside the little café they had eaten lunch at. He pulled his jacket slightly tighter as a sudden gust of wind blustered through the courtyard area, spiralling orange leaves across the flagstones. It being the middle of November, it was probably going to be their last time of eating outside until the spring.

"Tony?" He froze. "It's been a while."

"Jeanne. How are you?" He turned around and took a shaky breath, standing up again.

"I'm good, thank you. How've you been?"

"I'm doing well." He forced a smile and nodded, feeling very uncomfortable. He jumped when an arm wrapped around his middle.

"Tony, are you ready to…" Ziva stopped. "Oh."

"Jeanne, this is my, uh, Ziva. Ziva this is…"

"I remember, Tony." She snapped, closing her eyes and biting her bottom lip. "Sorry, I…"

"It's fine. I know." He smiled weakly, running his hand over her hair.

"I shall go and wait in the car."

"No. You don't need to do that." All three of them stood awkwardly, uncertain of what to say. Jeanne had cast four nervous looks to Ziva's stomach in under two minutes.

"The baby is not Tony's." She blurted, blushing and covering her mouth with her hand. She had no idea where her sudden lack of confidence had come from. "Tony, I need to get out of here. Um, I think I will walk home." She nodded and backed away.

"Wait. Ziva! It's like, three miles. You're not walking all that way!"

"I shall take a cab if it gets too much." She shrugged. "You stay. Talk. Catch up." She turned away and, at a brisk pace, walked out of the courtyard and down the street. Tony rubbed his face and shook his head.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine. Things have been a little difficult for her lately. We've been getting through it but…you know. She struggles sometimes, not that she'll admit it." He sank back down again. Jeanne sat opposite him. "I think some of the concepts of motherhood are lost on her. She's becoming more maternal, but she wasn't exactly taught how to deal with pregnancy and raising children when she was with Mossad. Probably the only thing they didn't teach her." He looked up. "Sorry. I don't know why I'm unloading this all onto you. I mean, if I were you I would be throwing a glass of water in my face or something."

"You were doing your job, Tony. I understand." Jeanne shrugged, and although he could see pain in her eyes, it was obsolete in comparison to the forgiveness that was there. "I was the one who falsely accused you of murder. And you're probably telling me because you need someone separate to talk to about it." There was a pause. "She said the baby wasn't yours?"

"She had a boyfriend. Short-lived thing, I think they both tried to make it as serious as they could whilst she loved another man, but I never met the guy, so I don't really know. Anyway, about five months or so ago I notice she's looking and acting slightly differently. Turns out she's pregnant." He toyed with a napkin on the table.

"What about the father?"

"He died. He was a marine."

"You love her, don't you? She was the one you felt guilty about every time you were with me." She asked, smiling sadly.

"It was complicated." He exhaled slowly.

"When was the first time you slept with her?" This question had a hint of jealousy behind it.

"Again. Complicated. Slept together as in shared a bed, slept together as in sex, or slept together as in fake sex?" Jeanne's eyebrows rose at the last one.

"All three?" She asked hesitantly.

"Um, first and last are the same night. We'd known each other for a month or two, maybe, and we'd been sent on a mission as married assassins. Helped that she _was_ an assassin. That was an interesting couple of days." He smiled at the memory. "McGee still doesn't believe that we were faking. But we were. We were just partners then. And then we became best friends. We shared a bed a lot when she had nightmares – you'd never have thought that a scary chick like that would have nightmares, but she does. And then there was a year when we sort of drifted apart. She was still my best friend, but there were a lot of secrets, and…it was a difficult year for all of us. And then a few months later she finds out she's pregnant and I start sleeping on her couch. Three weeks after that she insisted on me taking the bed and her taking the couch. We compromised with sharing the bed. Then sex came just under two months ago. And then stopped for three weeks whilst she was figuring everything out and then now we're…we're pulling through." He shook his head. "She said she wanted to take things slowly, but she's not great with that sort of stuff. Ducky reckons it's 'cause it's what she expects from men, its how she's lived, y'know, how her father brought her up, men do things if you ask them in the right way and all that. She struggles with the concept that anyone can just love her for being her, which I do, but I don't think she believes me."

"Complicated."

"Oh, yeah." He laughed. "More complicated than even you and I. Sorry about that. Again." He looked at his hands guiltily.

"I forgive you." She shrugged.

"Sorry she stormed off like that, too."

"That's fine too. I guess she knows all about me."

"She kept asking to meet you." He frowned. "When I was seeing you, she would always ask me why she hadn't met you. She was trying to be happy for me, even though it was killing her. Nobody knew that I was undercover. Not even my best friend. I wonder sometimes if that's why she did it, if that's why she stayed at the bar when everyone else had left. She met him that night at the hospital. I had promised that I would be at the bar with the rest of the team, but…" He shook his head and laughed self depreciatingly. "Just think, if I'd never taken the undercover op, maybe she wouldn't have met him. This wouldn't be so messy. Maybe she and I…we could've…I don't know…we could have started our own family…not that I won't raise this kid like my own if she wants me to, but I don't know that she wants me to, 'cause she won't talk about it. I don't know why I'm telling you this. I really don't. You don't need this. I'll go." He stood up, looking down in shock when Jeanne gripped his wrist delicately – her touch much lighter than anything Ziva would ever do to get somebody's attention, and Tony found it…wussy. Ziva used force, and he liked that about her.

"It's okay. If you need to talk to anyone, about anything, I am always here."

"Yeah. Thanks. And, er, I will."

"No, you won't." She smiled softly and shook her head.

"You're right, I won't. But it was kind of you to offer." He smiled. "Thank you." He nodded and turned away, wondering how on earth he was going to find Ziva in such a big city, because he knew she wouldn't have gone straight home.

* * *

"He does not love me Abby. He does not. He loves her. I should never have been so naïve to have thought that he would have just forgotten about her, because he loves her and I knew he still had feelings for her and I knew I should not have let him in, because it would only hurt more, but I just wanted it to work and I wanted everything to be right for once. I just wanted to be happy." Abby sat on the floor of her lab with Ziva's head resting in her lap. She ran what she hoped was calming fingers through Ziva's hair. Ziva herself lay on the floor, without the futon like Abby had tried to convince her would be more comfortable, and played with the bare skin she had exposed by pulling her shirt up over her bump, silent tears tracking down her face.

"You can still be happy, Ziva." She had tried to convince the young woman that Tony didn't love Jeanne, but her words had fallen on deaf ears, and she had given up with that.

"But I cannot. I got the happiness I deserve. I guess I have not been good enough to get more."

"Now that's just silly talk – you deserve to be happy for the rest of your life. This isn't life taking the happiness away because you've been bad – this is life telling you that you've got to be the bigger man and tell him how you feel."

"I am a woman, Abby."

"Turn of phrase" She smiled.

"You are wrong. He loves her, and if he loves her then he cannot love me. You did not see the way they were talking, like nothing happened at all between them the other month when she left. And the jealousy in her eyes when I walked over. I cannot be someone on the side, Abby. I cannot be second best."

"And you're not, nor will you ever be with Tony. He loves you just as much as you love him."

"Do not lie to me Abby." She shook her head, sniffing.

"Ziva. Ziva, sit up and look at me." Abby commanded, waiting for her friend to face her. Ziva simply closed her eyes, trying to block the tears that wanted to flow faster. "Do you really think he would have stuck around for all this time if he didn't love you? Really?"

"Obviously he felt some sort of obligation to stay with me once he had started staying."

"No. You're being irrational. It's not like that with Tony and you know it."

"He is an honourable man, Abby. He is loyal. If he deemed it necessary then he would stay for me."

"He would stay for you because he loves you."

"Listen to her. She knows what she's talking about." Tony's voice made Ziva's head snap towards the entrance of the lab, where he lounged against the doorframe, a serious expression stilling his usually lively face. "Do you really think I could love another woman, Ziva?"

"I do not see how you can love me. I am a killer."

"I've killed too."

"But never as an assassination. Assassins do not make good partners, or good parents." She stared at her palms, remembering all the blood that had stained them over the years.

Realisation dawned upon Tony and his mouth formed into an 'o', before he walked over and crouched before her. "Is that what you're worried about? That you won't be a good mother?"

"I am not worried."

"Sure you aren't." He nodded, taking her hands in his. "You have nothing to worry about. You love your baby, and I love you." His lips brushed against her forehead, not wanting to push her too far.

"I am not worried, because I _know_ I will not be a good mother, and I know you cannot love me."

"And how do you know such things?" He queried as she sat up, allowing Abby to slip free.

"Because that is the way it is. It is the way it should be. I deserve nothing more." Her voice was empty and he groaned.

"You're infuriating sometimes." He muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. He took her face in his hands, possibly holding slightly tighter than need be, but he did not want her slipping away. "You deserve so much more than that." He pressed his lips to hers, pulling away quickly. "I love you. How many times do I have to tell you that before you believe me, huh?"

She sniffed, looking away. "Maybe you could try one more time?"

He chuckled lightly, tucking her fringe behind her ears. "I love you. Again?" She nodded and he smiled. "I love you. Don't ever forget that."

 **So, this is the halfway mark. Only 12 more left.**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**I probably should have warned you that there was going to be a longer gap between the last one and this one in the last chapter, even if only by a day, but I forgot that this was this chapter. There will be an extra day between this one and the next as well.**

 **The reviews here are being hinky again! I am honestly losing my patience now. I have at least two reviews that I want to reply to. Okay, I know, so I could just start a PM, but I like the way that I can read the review whilst typing the reply. This site drives me up the hall!**

 **Anyway, just because I can only read them in the alert emails, it does not mean that I do not want to read them, I do. We only have a couple of weeks left of this year and they really would be great to end what has been, in all honesty, a terrible year with something happy.**

 **I am not certain about this chapter. I like the way the words fit together, but I do not like the words themselves.**

Chapter Thirteen

 ** _Monday, December 17_** ** _th_** ** _2007– 37 weeks_**

"Vermont." Abby ran into the squad room, excitement radiating off of her.

"Pretty this time of year, all that snow."

"DiNozzo." Gibbs cautioned. "What about Vermont?"

"Well, I was thinking – we never do anything as a team for Christmas, y'know? So, I thought, hey, why don't we all go up to Vermont. We could take a minivan and all drive up together. The whole team, all of us. And Ducky and Palmer too. We can stay in a pretty inn, made from logs, like in White Christmas, and we can all just have a relaxing weekend."

"I think it sounds like a lovely idea, Abby." Ziva smiled from where she was sat at her desk.

"When are you thinking of going, Abs?" Gibbs narrowed his eyes. It was a week until Christmas. And they had no case, meaning they had no excuse not to go apart from him not wanting to go, something that would not stop Abby, thanks to the fact that the director had decided that for one year they did not have to do the Christmas shift.

"This weekend. Leave Friday, come back on Monday."

"Monday's Christmas Eve, Abby." McGee said.

"Well, duh, Timmy. That's why we're coming back then. I've already booked the hotel and the minivan." She grinned.

"I like the idea."

"No. You're not going." Tony looked at Ziva and shook his head.

"What? Why?!"

"Because you're about to burst! You're eight and a half months pregnant. No."

"Tony, the due date is in three weeks. Everything will be fine. Anyway, Ducky will be there if anything goes wrong."

" _If anything goes wrong?!_ Nothing is going to go wrong because you're not going!" Everyone else decided that this was going to be an argument that, although it may be entertaining, none of them particularly wanted to take part in it, and very quickly disappeared down to Abby's lab, turning the plasma on in order to watch the argument from the safety of the basement.

"You are not my boss, Tony. You do not tell me what to do!" At this point everyone else on the fourth floor decided it would be a good idea to go and get lunch. Or coffee. Or go to the dentist appointment they had been putting off for six months.

"I'm just trying to do what's best for you and the baby."

" _My_ baby. My baby, Tony. Not _the_ baby. Not _our_ baby. My baby. You seem to have forgotten that. This is my baby, and I think I know what is best for me and _my_ baby." She stood up, slightly uneasily.

"Hey! I've been there for you for the past six months!"

"And I never asked for you to be there! You just stayed! I gave you plenty of chances to leave if you wanted to!"

"I never wanted to leave! You know what? This, here, right now, is the first time I've actually wondered what I'm doing! I don't know what I was attempting to do, maybe you're right. Maybe I should just leave. Save us all the trouble of figuring out what the heck it is we're trying to make work!" He stood up abruptly, his chair slamming against the partitioning wall behind him. "I'll have my stuff out of your place by dinner this evening!" He stormed out.

"Tony…" She sank back into her seat, glad nobody was there to see her cry as she covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to stifle the noisy sobs. "I know, Baby, I know. I screwed up. Big time." She said as the baby kicked her, hard. "Oh, God... What have I done?" She buried her head in her arms and wept.

* * *

"Stop. DiNozzo, stop." Gibbs gripped his wrist, restraining the younger man from putting another dress shirt into the box he was filling. He had not even noticed Gibbs enter the apartment. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"Looks like your making the biggest mistake of your life."

"Funny. I thought I was packing."

"Same thing." Gibbs sighed and sat on the bed, trying not to consider the explicit escapades that the bed had catered for between his two agents – or would cater for in the future. "I should be head-slapping you into your retirement. But I'm not gonna."

"Thanks." He did not sound particularly grateful. "Why?"

"Well, in the past six months, this is the first time you've actually messed up. And, believe it or not, I'm actually kinda proud of you."

"You're…proud…?" He looked dubious.

"Of you, yes. The way you've handled everything that's been going on with Ziva and the baby."

" _Her_ baby, Boss."

"She didn't mean that, DiNozzo. She's got a lot on her mind at the moment."

"I'd never of guessed." He said sarcastically.

"It doesn't help you being overly protective though." He held his hand up when Tony began to argue. "I know, I worry about her too, but Ziva is independent. You can't try and protect her, she'll just rebel and that will be more dangerous for her and the baby. Don't be overbearing. And don't leave her. You don't want to leave and she doesn't want you to leave."

"She said things…"

"She said a lot of things, Tony. So did you. Did you mean all of those things you said?"

"No, but…"

"She has a boat-load of hormones coursing through her body, Tony. She has more of an excuse to say things she doesn't mean than you do." He stood up. "Put your clothes back. Make dinner for her. Buy her flowers. Let her go to Vermont."

"I just don't want anything to happen to her, Boss."

"And nothing will. She'll be fine. Just let her be her."

"I love her, Boss."

"I know, Tony."

"No, not like I did when all of this started. I thought I could never love anyone more than I did then, but that was nothing, not compared to now. I can't…I don't want to lose her. Ever."

* * *

"Come on, dear. Let me take you home." Ducky helped Ziva up and wrapped her coat around her shoulders. He guided her to the elevator. The squad room had been, thankfully, quiet since Tony had stormed out. McGee had stayed down in Abby's lab and Gibbs had disappeared off somewhere, she had assumed to get coffee, but he had not returned. Everyone else seemed to think their lives more valuable than their jobs and had steered clear of the forth floor.

"Ducky, I do not want to be there without Tony." She shook her head. "Could I, maybe, stay around yours for tonight, or with Gibbs? Maybe Abby or McGee will let me sleep on their couches?"

"No, Dear. You need to go home and sleep in a proper bed. I'll cook you some dinner though." He smiled. "I presume that you have food in the cupboard?"

"That is if Tony has not eaten it all." She smirked and then her face fell at everything that had happened, everything she had said. "I am a terrible person."

"Now, we'll have none of that. You are not a terrible person, you are a very good person, and you're doing an excellent job. Come on, I'll drive you home. You can have a nice hot meal and a good sleep, and things may not seem as gloomy in the morning as they do now."

"You are always so optimistic, Ducky." She smiled sadly and gently patted his cheek.

"That comes from many years of realising that life's too short to be pessimistic." She looped her arm through his and leaned into his side slightly. "You know, whatever mistakes young Anthony makes, his heart is always in the right place. And you and I both know that he has such a big heart, the heart of a lion some might say."

"At least one of us does."

"Don't sell yourself short, Child." He opened the door to his Morgan for her to sit in, since she and Tony had driven to work together, and he had taken his car when he had stormed off. "Think about your little girl, and think about Tony. You love them both, don't you?"

"Of course I do. But they deserve someone better than me."

"No. Your daughter deserves her mother, and nobody will love her more than you. And Tony, well, he doesn't want another's love. He wants yours."

"You think too highly of me."

"I think as highly of you as everyone else does."

"Then everyone else thinks too highly of me, too." She sat, staring at her interlocked fingers.

"Do you really have such a low opinion of yourself?"

"I have taken many, many lives, Ducky. Good people do not take lives."

He sighed and glanced across at her whilst continuing to keep one eye on the road, because he knew that if Tony thought he had driven even slightly carelessly with Ziva in the car, he would not be the one conducting the next autopsy, so much as the one laying on the table. Not that he ever drove carelessly in the first place. "Do you think Gibbs is a good person?"

"Of course I do, Ducky."

"And how many lives do you suppose our fearless leader has taken?"

"He has saved so many, though."

"And how many lives have you saved? How many of those lives that you took would have caused more misery had you not taken them?"

"But they are still somebody's mother, father, brother, sister, daughter, son, lover, spouse, best friend. Ducky, who am I to judge that? I am nobody."

He frowned. "But who are they to judge whose lives to take away, either? Many of the men and women you kill are murderers and terrorists, whose existence will only result in more suffering and death. Francis Hutchinson, and later Jeremy Bentham, told us that we should strive for the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people. That is what you do, my Dear. Your job is to work out how it would be best to keep the most people safe, and happy, and protected from evil. We each sacrifice ourselves to our jobs, and we must each decide whether the sacrifice is worth it. Is our happiness worth more than the happiness of others? Bentham would say no, it is equal. Peter Singer takes it further and says that every higher thinking animal's happiness is equal to yours, too." He watched her reflection in the windscreen as she stared out of the window. "What I'm saying is that it is not only the happiness of the people you are killing, or their families, that you must consider, or the happiness of the people you are protecting, or the happiness of yourself, but all three, as well as those around you who are affected by your happiness."

"You are not making me feel any better, Ducky."

"Right. Do you want to continue working at NCIS, Ziva?"

"This is my home, Ducky. I do not want to go back to Israel." She closed her eyes and rested her head against the cool glass of the window. "I want my daughter to be born into a world where nobody kills others, and nobody hates one another and there are no atrocious crimes."

"Everybody wants that for their children, Ziva. It is only natural to want that. However, you and I both know that with only three weeks to go, there is little hope that we will be able to remove all evil from this world." He looked at her sympathetically as he pulled up outside her apartment and took her hand. "That is not to say that we should give up, but that we have more work to do. Alas, for you, you must rest, and prepare yourself."

"Thank you, Ducky. You always know what to say."

"Well, I've had a lot of practice." He smiled. "Now, what I think would be best is to get you some food. It is up to you as to what I cook, although mother is always partial to my cauliflower cheese."

"You do not need to do that, Ducky." She said as they climbed out of the car. "I have very little appetite tonight, I think I shall just go to sleep."

"You need to eat, Ziva."

"I am fine, Ducky. Really." She placed a hand on his forearm and smiled reassuringly. "You do not have to worry about me."

"We do not have to, but that does not mean we can't worry about you. All of us."

"Well, you should not." She leant over and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for driving me home. I will see you tomorrow."

"Take care of yourself. Oh, and remember, Tony does not always think in the same way you do. Just be open minded with him."

* * *

The glow of candlelight illuminated the apartment as she walked in. Tea lights covered the flat surfaces. "Tony?"

"In the kitchen." She walked through to the kitchen-diner and smiled as Tony fumbled with a frying pan.

"What is with all the candles?" This room, too, was filled with the small candles, along with a larger candle in the centre of the dining table.

"Oh, uh, we had a power cut."

"Tony, firstly, the streetlights are all on, and the lights in the apartment building are all on, secondly, I do not own this many candles."

"Yeah…the shop down the road have no candles left now. I, uh…I was trying to make a romantic dinner. I mean, I've never actually cooked salmon before, and, uh, I think it's gone wrong." He held out the frying pan and the two blackened lumps.

"Think?" She smirked, her misery almost gone. "You do not have to do this, Tony."

"Yes, I do. I need to apologise."

"No, it is I who owes you an apology. I should not have snapped at you, you were trying to look out for me and my – our – baby."

" _Our_?"

"If that is what you want." She smiled shyly and walked over to him, pressing her lips to his cheek. "Thank you." Her nose wrinkled when she poked the charcoal in the pan and she reached around him, grabbing the phone that sat in the cradle on the work surface. "Pizza?"

"Ah, I thought you'd never offer." He flashed one of his trademark grins as he pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry."

"Tony…"

"No. I am sorry. I'm sorry for everything I have ever said, and everything I will ever say. Honestly, I need a filter on my mouth." He grinned sheepishly. "I will never, ever, for the rest of my life, want to leave you, or our baby. Please, please promise me that if I even try you will remind me why I love you so much. Or have me committed."

"You are not already committed to me?" She felt her chest tighten and her face creased slightly.

"What? No! Committed to a psych ward! I'd have to be insane to ever want to leave you. Of course I am committed to you. Always." He touched her hair, curling his fingers in it, and pressed his lips to hers, smiling when he felt her baby kick against his stomach. "Always and forever."

* * *

Yellow candlelight flickered across the walls of the bedroom, casting dancing shadows around them as they lay together; his head on her stomach and her hand entwined in his hair. No words were exchanged, none were needed, as they both felt the kicks of the child inside of her, smiles spreading across both their faces every time a little foot connected with his cheek. He started tracing patterns across her skin – shapes, pictures and letters; his name and hers, over and over, the 'i's dotted with kisses.

 **I do not know if I like that last paragraph or not. I think that I was going to delete it when I wrote it, and then I forgot and left it in.**

 **And to Joanna, who left a review as a guest to the last chapter, fiction is a good way to escape from the world – why do you think I write? Difficult weeks happen to all of us (honestly, I have more bad weeks than good – just ask the psychologist I have on speed dial), and having an escape can make things a whole lot easier. Things do get better, trust me. There will always be light at the end of the tunnel, and that light should be our goal– the metaphoric tunnel of difficulties, not the metaphoric tunnel of death, because the latter should not be our goal.**

 **After the next chapter I will go back to uploading them every three days, not every four.**


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**I am supposed to be tidying the place up at the moment ready for family coming around tonight, but so far all I have done since waking up is go downstairs and doze on the sofa… it is like all of my energy has seeped away and I have no motivation…**

 **Merry Christmas Eve! Happy first evening of Hanukkah!**

Chapter Fourteen

 ** _Monday, December 24_** ** _th_** ** _2007 – 38 weeks_**

It was dark when she woke. Her head was rested on Tony's shoulder and she looked out of the window on her other side. It was impossible to see anything in the inky blackness. She looked around at everyone else in the car. Ducky asleep in the front seat, Abby on the other side of Tony, both also asleep, and McGee and Palmer snoring softly in the back of the seven-seater. Gibbs was the only other one awake as he drove. "Gibbs, what is the time?"

"0130h. You okay?"

"Yes. I just woke up." She shrugged and settled back down again. "How long until we get home?"

"Half an hour less than the last time that you asked." He sighed. "About six more hours. Try and get some more sleep." He smiled in the rear view mirror. She nodded and closed her eyes, nestling her head back into the crook of Tony's neck, breathing in his warm smell. Gibbs groaned quietly as the big, fluffy white flakes continued tumbling down from the dark sky, illuminated by the headlights of the people carrier. Snow. Great. There was already a white blanket laying down on the road, growing thicker, and he did not want to have to reduce his speed any more than he already had. He needed coffee, something that he wasn't going to get for another, well, six more hours. Why'd Abby have to suggest somewhere so remote? Oh, yeah. Abby. Right. He glanced in the review mirror again to see Ziva staring back at him. "You okay?"

"Mmhm."

"Don't sound it. What's wrong?"

"Uh, I do not know, I just…"

"Ziva? What is it?"

"Um…did Shannon ever tell you what contractions felt like? Because I would really like a second opinion on that right about now…" Her voice wavered slightly.

"How close are they?"

"Last ones had ten minutes between them. My waters broke about three quarters of an hour ago, when we were at the service station but I did not want to panic everyone. I thought I would be fine until we get back to DC." She shifted uncomfortably.

"Christ, Ziva. You should have told me earlier." Gibbs slammed his palm against the steering wheel. "Hey, Duck. Duck!"

"Yes, Jethro?" Ducky woke with a start, blinking a few times until his eyes acclimatised to the dark.

"What do we do if Ziva's gone into labour?"

"We try and get her to the nearest hospital. Why?"

"Because I have gone into labour, Ducky." She said, her voice harsher than she meant for it to be.

"Ow! Hey! What the hell was that for?!" Tony yelped, looking down and wiggling his fingers on the hand that Ziva had squeezed.

"You said I can squeeze your hand when I have the baby." Tony blinked at Ziva's face in the dark.

"Right, well, until then, lets just not squeeze my hand so hard."

"Then is now, DiNozzo." Gibbs said gruffly. How was this happening to him? He had wanted to spend Christmas alone, in his basement, building his boat. But no, Abby's crazy idea had spiralled out of control. Yet again.

"Right." He let Gibbs words sink in before truly starting to panic. "Oh, my God!"

"And the ball drops."

"Penny, Ziva dear. The penny drops." Ducky smiled to her in the back seat.

"Does it really matter what drops? Ziva's having a baby! Oh, my God!" Abby woke up when Tony shouted.

"Ziva's gone into labour?!" Abby's squeals woke the two guys in the back.

"What?!" McGee leant forwards. "I don't have to watch do I, 'cause I don't think I could stomach that."

"Probie!"

"Can we just get to the hospital please?" Ziva almost whimpered.

"Well, I don't know where the nearest hospital is." Ducky shrugged.

"I have a map here."

"Palmer, the car has a GPS. Anyway, with your navigational skills we wouldn't make it to the hospital before Ziva has the baby." McGee shook his head. "The middle button on the console, Ducky. Press that." Ducky obeyed and the little screen light up. "Okay, search for the nearest hospital."

"Oh, my. What have I done?"

"You hit the wrong button, Ducky. You need to hit that arrow in the corner. No the other corner."

He hit a few buttons then bit his lip. "Ah…Ziva, how is it going back there?"

"Ducky, what is the problem?" Her voice sounded taught and she had her eyes closed, focusing on keeping her breathing steady.

"Well, the problem is that…"

"Next hospital's an hour and a half away without traffic. We've not got traffic, but snow's already heavy. Just under three hours if the weather doesn't get any worse. You think you can make it until then?" Gibbs interrupted, not wanting to wait for Ducky to put it in a more polite way. The way he saw it, Ziva was not going to care how nicely the news was delivered, she was not going to like it either way.

"Not really, Gibbs."

"My hand is certainly not." Tony whined.

"Right. Duck, where're the closest buildings?" He waited patiently, or as patiently as he knew how to. "Duck?"

"There's what looks like a warehouse about two miles up."

"Okay, we're gonna stop there. McGee, can you try and call an ambulance, get them to meet us there? They'll be better equipped."

"On it, Boss." He pulled his phone out and started speaking to the operator.

"How you doing back there, Ziva?"

"Uh, well, it hurts. You know, labour would be quite an efficient torture technique were it practical to organise."

"Gah! Just get a pregnant woman to squeeze on your suspect's hand. That'll get them talking." Tony grumbled.

"Tony! The day you have to go through what Ziva's going through is the day that you earn the right to complain!" Abby slapped the back of his head.

"Hey! Now is not the time for bickering like children." Everyone fell silent apart from Ziva's occasional whimpers or groans and a strange nasal whistling sound. "What is that noise?!"

"Uh, Jimmy's fallen back asleep." Abby said with a slight laugh.

"How can he sleep at such a time?" Ducky muttered, shaking his head. "I do apologise for him."

Gibbs pulled up outside a large warehouse, lit by a single floodlight. There was a black BMW in the small parking area too. Gibbs looked at his watch. 0150h. "McGee, you got your weapon?"

"Uh, yeah Boss, why?"

"I got a feeling we're not alone here. You're with me. Everyone else stays put. That clear?"

"Got it, Boss." Tony nodded as Gibbs and McGee climbed out. He turned back to Ziva. "You okay, Sweetcheeks?"

"Does it look like I am okay, Tony?"

"Hey, you don't look too bad…" He winced as her grip on his wrist tightened. "Okay, you don't look okay."

"Abigail, is there any possibility that you could move so I could sit in the back with Ziva?"

"Of course, Ducky." Abby nodded and climbed over the seat back so she was sat next to palmer. The doctor chuckled at her.

"Excuse me if I don't take the same way as you, I am not nearly as flexible as I used to be." He climbed out of the passenger seat and opened the back door, the opposite side to the seat that Abby had just vacated. Tony scooted across, easing Ziva over with him, and Ducky climbed in, closing the door from the now thickly falling snow. At that moment McGee came running back through the snow.

"Hey! Hey!" He pulled the door open again and Ziva's glared made him rethink the use of that door so he moved to the front door instead. "So, the car belongs to the security guard. He said that we can go inside and wait for the ambulance, because the snow's got really thick and the ambulance might not get here as quickly as we need it to." He said in one breath. "And, guess what? It's a storage warehouse for a towel factory!"

"It's a Christmas miracle!" Abby cried. "What more could you need at the birth of a baby, other than towels? Come on."

"Abs, he said we can drive the car in. He's gonna open up the front door." McGee stopped her when she started getting out of the car. He nodded to the yellow light that was now emanating from the vehicle door to the warehouse. He climbed into the drivers seat and pulled through to the inside of the building.

* * *

"You think you can deliver the baby if it comes to that, Duck?" Gibbs asked as the two older men stood off to the side, murmuring quietly. McGee and Palmer, with the help of Bob the security guard, had set up a radio link to the ambulance crew that were fighting their way through the rapidly worsening weather. The snowstorm had turned into a full on blizzard soon after they had closed the warehouse door.

"It has been a very long time since I have delivered any children, Jethro. I believe Mr Palmer is much more up to date on this things, having done his training only a few years ago. Isn't that so?"

"Yes, Doctor." Jimmy walked over.

"Come near me, Jimmy, and I will kill you with a towel." Ziva snarled from where she was sat on the concrete floor, between Tony and Abby.

The young ME's assistant paled slightly and gulped. "I think I'll let you handle the patient, Doctor."

"Her labour is progressing quickly, Jethro." Ducky lowered his voice further to avoid Ziva's impressive hearing from allowing her to listen in.

"You concerned?"

"Not yet. But her contractions are already only…" He looked down to his watch as, as if on cue, Ziva let out a small, quiet moan, "…six minutes apart. I have to say, though, that she is controlling the pain extraordinarily well."

"She was in the IDF. Mossad. She was trained to endure pain."

"But still, labour and contractions can be excruciating. She is doing remarkably well." Ducky nodded as he and Gibbs turned back to watch her, smiling at something Tony said.

* * *

"So, how's it going?" Jimmy walked over, grinning. Ziva growled menacingly at him and he backed away before he decided that he didn't like the look in her eyes and ran the rest of the way to where he, Abby and McGee had set up camp. "Next time, it's McGee's turn!" He hissed.

"Uh-uh." Tim shook his head. "I'm good over here, a safe distance from…that." He waved his hand in the general direction of the rest of the team, returning to the pad of paper he was scrawling on and passing it to Abby.

"How did you become an agent if you're so squeamish?" Palmer looked at him curiously.

"It's better when the person's not alive. Or threatening bodily harm."

"McGee! Is this the best you can do?!" Abby looked up at him. "You're a published author and the best sentence you can come up with is 'It was dark.'? Seriously?!"

"I was setting the scene!"

"But you could have been more imaginative than 'It was dark.'" She cried.

"Will you three keep it down over there?" Ducky called, glowering the best he could at the three 'youngsters' who were sat in a circle not far from he, Ziva and Tony, whilst keeping ninety-nine percent of his attention on Ziva and the job at hand.

"Abby, I don't want to play this game." McGee pouted, making sure to keep his voice down.

"You suggested it!" She threw her hands up in the air, her voice growing loud again. She ducked down, hiding behind McGee and Jimmy before either of the older men could glare at her.

"Well, I didn't expect you to go into such…explicit detail." He looked over the page once more and crumpled it into a ball, tossing it at her head.

"It's just sex, McGee!"

"There is no such thing as just sex, Abby. That is what got me into this mess in the first place!" Ziva shouted, silencing them.

* * *

"Lech l'azazel! Tony, it hurts." She buried her face into his chest as she gripped his hand.

"I know, love. I know. Just a little longer."

"No. I do not want to. I cannot." She shook her head.

"Of course you can my dear. You're doing wonderfully." Ducky looked over to Gibbs. "How's the ambulance doing?" Gibbs just shook his head, the phone still held firmly to his ear.

"Snow's getting worse. Low visibility. They're doing their best."

"Of course." Ducky turned back to Ziva.

"Tony?"

"Yes, Sweetcheeks?" He looked down and his heart broke at her expression, a mix of pain, fear and exhaustion.

"I am not ready to be a mother." Her voice was tearful.

"Now that's just silly talk. You're gonna be a great ima."

"Is it too late to turn back?"

"Just a little." He chuckled. "Hey, hey, you're gonna be fine. We all are." He grit his teeth together as she crushed his hand. "Look, look over there…" He pointed to Abby, McGee and Palmer who were now sat in a circle on the concrete floor playing cards. He then pointed to Gibbs, stood a few metres away, doing his best to get a sit-rep on the ambulance. "This little baby is being brought into the best family imaginable. She's going to have an amazing Ima, and an amazing aunty and amazing uncles and two amazing grandpas. She's going to be the luckiest baby in the world."

"What about you? Where do you fit into that?"

"I fit wherever you want me." He smiled, pressing a light kiss to her temple. She smiled slightly before her face crumpled.

"Ducky…"

"I know, dear. Everything's going to be okay. Everything looks good."

"Well, it does not _feel_ good."

Ducky chuckled. "I expect it does not. Now, I need you to push the next time you feel a contraction."

"You are so lucky Tony took my gun away from me." Ziva growled at him, causing him to chuckle again. "I am not joking, Ducky."

"And I do not doubt that, my dear. But I need you to focus now. Focus on your little girl, and focus on Tony."

"Thanks, Ducky. You've just signed the warrant to allow her to grind the bones of my hand to dust."

"I'm sure you will survive, Anthony. The pain you experience in that is only a fraction of what Ziva will be going through."

"I can make it worse for you if you wish, DiNozzo."

"I'm good, but thanks for the offer."

* * *

"Hi there little one." Tony cooed as he cradled Ziva's daughter in his arms, her tiny form fitting neatly into his big arms. "Your Grandpa Gibbs says the ambulance will be here soon to take you and your Ima to the hospital, because they need to check you're both okay and healthy. She's sleeping at the moment, which is why I'm holding you. That and the fact that for some reason she says she trusts me with you more than she trusts anybody else." Abby had managed to find some soft, pink towels in the warehouse full of terrycloth sheets and the child was now swaddled in them to keep her warm, protecting her from the cold chill of the large concrete and metal building. Her small face poked out and her clear blue eyes stared up at him. "Y'know, it's Christmas Eve today. I used to love Christmas Eve; the excitement, the expectation, the thrill of the possibility of Santa coming down the chimney. I grew out of it, though. Guess now I have a reason to like it again." He smiled, pressing a feather-light kiss to her forehead. "Of course, your Ima's Jewish, so you'll celebrate Hanukkah, not Christmas, although she still always spends Christmas with us anyway." She stared at him mutely, unblinking. "You're beautiful, just like your Ima. Although not quite like your Ima, cause she's beautiful in other ways too, and if I though about you like that then…well, that wouldn't be good – in fact it would be very, very wrong. Very wrong. But you are beautiful." He had no idea what he was rambling about. "You know, I never met your father. I wish I had, though. I want to thank him, because without him you wouldn't be here today, and maybe I would never have told your Ima that I love her. Maybe I should also thank Eli – but then, well, I think all of the bad things outbalance the good things with him. He hurt your Ima. I promise I will never hurt either of you – not intentionally, at least." He started meandering down the aisles of towels. "But I'm the master of mistakes. I've made more mistakes that your Uncle McGeek's made computer programs and your Grandpa Gibbs has made boats. Combined. Now, that's a lot of boats and computer programs. That's a lot of mistakes. Maybe one day I'll tell you about some of them. Not all of them – there are some mistakes that are not for ladies ears, especially a beautiful young lady like you. No, there are some things that should never pass through your ears, or your eyes. I promise to try and keep you safe from all of that stuff. I mean, it's kinda already mine and your Ima's jobs to keep people safe, and your Grandpa Gibbs and Uncle McGeek, but you're a special little girl, and we'll all do our best to keep you super safe. I promise." He kissed her forehead again, just as Gibbs walked up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Grandpa Gibbs. Do you want to hold Baby David?" He smiled softly at his boss, proffering the child.

Gibbs chuckled quietly and shook his head. "Oh, no. Ziva gave strict orders that you were the only one to hold her, and I'm not getting between a mama bear and her cub. She's a beautiful girl."

"She is, isn't she? Ziva did a wonderful job." His voice cracked slightly.

"You crying, DiNozzo?"

"No, Boss." He stared into the clear blue eyes of the newborn.

"Yeah. Me either." He peered into the bundle of pink. "Ambulance is here. They want to get going as quickly as possible, the snow's already laying thickly over the tracks they made getting here."

"Ziva awake?"

"No, I told them to leave that to you. Don't want to wake the sleeping assassin without being prepared."

"Of course not." He smirked, following Gibbs through the labyrinth of shelving units. "You know, this place kinda reminds me of hanger 51, from Raiders of the Lost Ark. Y'know, Indiana Jones." Tony grinned, his face falling when he felt Gibbs hand on the back of his head. "Baby!" He hissed, looking shocked that Gibbs would hit him whilst he was holding a child, no matter how light the tap was.

"Call me Baby again, DiNozzo, and I'll head-slap you to the front of the unemployment line." Gibbs growled, trying to keep the grin off his face

"Boss, I…no…it…I…not you." He stammered. "I was talking about Baby David."

"You think I don't know that, DiNozzo?" The older man laughed. The good mood circulating his team was infectious.

* * *

"Hi. Tony DiNozzo." He smiled to the two paramedics stood by the ambulance that had pulled into the warehouse. He then turned to where Ziva was sleeping, curled up on a bed of towels. He dread to think how much all of the towels they had used throughout the early morning were going to cost them. "Time to wake up, Sweetcheeks." He murmured softly as he shifted the tiny infant into only one of his arms, using his now free hand to brush across her cheek, tucking wisps of hair behind her ear. "Come on, Sweetcheeks. You need to wake up. The paramedics are here."

"Where's my baby?"

"She's right here. I've got her. She's fine." He nodded over to the paramedics, who both approached with caution.

"Hi Ziva, I'm Vicky, this is James, we're going to get you to the hospital as fast as we can, but with the weather we're going to need to take it gently. We don't want any harm to come to your or Baby David."

"I have been in an ambulance before, you do not need to talk to me like I am an infant. And I do not need to go to hospital, I am fine."

"We know that." Vicky soothed, helping her to stand up. "But we are more concerned about Baby David." Ziva nodded slowly, acceptingly, as Tony handed her baby girl to her. "Your husband can come too, we don't like separating families."

"Oh, we're not…I'm not…uh…she's not my wife, and I'm not the father, it's just…"

"Complicated." Ziva broke in. "Just get in, Tony."

"Yes, Boss." He saluted to her, smiling apologetically at the paramedic when she raised here eyes.

"You do not know how close you are to getting a hit to the back of your head right now, DiNozzo." She growled, glaring when he laughed.

"You wouldn't. Not holding your baby."

Something collided with the back of his head and he yelped, whirling round to see Gibbs standing behind him. "She wouldn't, but I would."

"Yes, Boss. Getting in the ambulance now, Boss." He climbed up and sat next to the gurney that Vicky had sat her on.

"We'll see you at the hospital later, DiNozzo. Stay safe." Gibbs said, just as James the paramedic finished talking to Ducky and walked over to close the back doors of the ambulance.

"All ready to go?"

Tony waited for Ziva's nod. "Yeah, we're good to go."

Vicky smiled. "We just need to check Baby David over, just to make certain that she's okay, and then we'll need to go through some paperwork which I'm sure Mr DiNozzo can help us with."

"Agent DiNozzo."

"Okay, Agent DiNozzo." She nodded, turning back to Ziva. "Firstly, have you thought of any names for Baby David?"

"I have one in mind."

"You do?" The last time he had asked about names she had simply responded that she was thinking about it and it was not something she had any firm ideas on yet.

"Evita. It means 'living one'. I thought it was appropriate, what with Matthew and everything."

"I like it." He smiled, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it.

"Evita Eliana. Eliana translates as 'my God has answered me', I do not believe in a God anymore, I think I have seen too much for that, but she is a gift, and I think that is what her name really means, to me, at least."

"Well, it's a beautiful name."

"For a beautiful girl." Tony leant over and pressed a kiss to the smattering of dark hair that covered the tiny girl's head.

* * *

"You're thinking about something."

"Yes. You should try it sometime."

"Oh, ha ha, very funny." Tony stuck his tongue out at her and she returned the gesture. "Come on, what is it?"

"Nothing, I…"

"Ziva." He warned.

"Your reunion – it is in Indiana. I…I want to take her to Matthew's grave. I want her to know where she came from." She said hesitantly as she stared down at the child held firmly in her arms. He would never have been able to pry her daughter from her arms even if he wanted to. "And I think you should go to your reunion. You have achieved more than you think you have."

"Okay." He nodded.

"Tony, I really think that it would be good for…wait, what?"

"I said okay. I think you're right."

Ziva frowned. "You, Tony DiNozzo, are admitting that I am right?"

"Yes, I can do that from time to time." He laughed, perching on the edge of the hospital bed. "You have a really, really beautiful daughter. Matthew would be proud."

"I do not think it would have worked between us, Tony. Even with Evita, I do not think it would have remained happy."

"I know." He smiled softly. "But I still want to thank the guy."

"What for?" Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"For you." He smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing his hand on her knee.

"Tony…" She started after studying his features, but stopped and dropped her head as soon as he looked at her. "No, it does not matter."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. It was just a thought that does not matter." She smiled at him. _You have to ask him._

 _Not now. Now is too soon._

 _What is too soon about it? The paramedic called her his daughter._

 _And he corrected her._

 _He corrected her because it is true. But it does not have to be._

 _Yes it does. For now at least._

 _You are scared he will run away, yes?_

 _NO! No, of course I am not. It is just…well, we do not know if we will work still, particularly with a baby._

 _No couple does, really. How many children do you think are born with their parents being unsure about whether they will work as a family? Exactly, you know that it is a lot._

 _Yes, but how many of those families break apart after a year, two years? A lot._

 _A small proportion._

 _A small proportion too many._

 _You are afraid._

 _Am not._

 _Are too._

 _Whose side are you on?_

"Somehow I do not believe you."

"Well you should. It is nothing, really."

"Ziva…"

"Okay, I was just thinking…if you think it is a good idea, of course, I was just thinking that, well, because she is not, I mean, legally speaking, Evita is, she does not have a father, and I was, I mean…if something were to happen to me, I just…what would…her, she would…I mean, I think it would…only if you want to, which you might not want to, but if you do, then, uh…I mean I do not, I would never presume, but I…Tony, I just…there is not really, I mean," she stumbled and stuttered through her words.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"I just think it might be a good idea, I have been thinking about it often, but, uh…I think maybe if you were to…adopt her? It would make you her legal father, and it would mean that if anything were to happen to me she would still have you. I mean, that is only if you thought it were important, and you felt it was a good idea…I mean, I did spring that on you, but, er, that is, I mean, it was just…"

"Ziva." He cut through her rambling by placing a hand on her cheek, stroking the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone. "Of course I would want to adopt her. I would have to be crazy not to want to have such a beautiful little girl as my daughter." He saw no point in hiding the happy smile that spread across his face as he looked down at both their faces. "You've done an amazing job, you know."

"It is something that happens all the time, Tony. I have done nothing…"

"You have. You are amazing, and I love you for it."

"Awwww! Tony, that's sooooo sweet!" Abby gushed, bursting through the door.

"And so it begins…" Tony murmured in Ziva's ear, making her chuckle as she kept one eye on Abby who was cooing over Evita.

 **This chapter was difficult, to say the least. I think it was the first of the 24 for me to actually struggle with and procrastinate over.**

 **I had a lot of trouble figuring out what to name her. I was undecided between a Hebrew name and an English name. I was thinking Lara, so Tony could call her Lara Croft, because I have a friend called Lara who I call Lara Croft because she has dark hair which she always wears in a plait, but then I did not like that idea, and I went through the (very old) book of baby names that my parents used to name me, which, admittedly, is slightly out-dated, and I could not find any in there. Then I looked through Hebrew names and could not find any that I liked, which is unusual because I like Hebrew names, and so I left it for a long time – about four months. And then I came up with Evita Eliana David (It was actually something someone said in a dream).**


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**I do not know about this chapter. Every time I sat down to write it I purposefully distracted myself and the few times that I finally managed to get the proper feel of the chapter and felt like it was going the right way other people distracted me, so I just did not have a good time writing it.**

 **I appear to be missing a few paragraphs that I know for certain I wrote. I do not know where they have disappeared off to, but I cannot remember them well enough to rewrite them.**

Chapter Fifteen

 ** _Sunday, January 20_** ** _th_** ** _2008_**

"Ready?" Tony asked, lifting the small carry-on luggage into the boot of the taxi.

"No, I just need to check that we have everything."

"Ziva, you've checked three times. You have everything in her bag. I don't think you've left anything in the apartment." They had found a two-bedroom apartment just down the road from her old place that they had moved into only two weeks after Evita's birth. He sighed and she looked down at Evita, sleeping obliviously in the car seat.

"I think she might get cold."

"She wouldn't get cold in the artic with that blanket." He pointed to the thick, black, knitted blanket that Abby had made.

"But what if I forgot something?"

"Then it's not the end of the world. If it's something important, we can buy a new one – there are still shops in Indiana, it's not like we're going to Outer Mongolia. It's going to be fine." He flicked his eyes to the cabby, now drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "Come on. The driver's getting impatient and we're going to miss our flight." He pressed a kiss to her temple.

She bit her lip. "Okay."

* * *

They walked down the strip of muddy grass, the ground crunching slightly with the frost that still had not been touched by the weak sunlight hidden behind the heavy, grey clouds. His arm was around her waist, his fingers massaging her hip through her black military-style coat as she leant into his body slightly. They both wore simple black clothing, a plain black dress for her and a black dress-shirt and black trousers for him. Even the babe in her arms was swaddled in a thick black knitted blanket. The child looked up at her mother with clear blue eyes and gurgled softly, breaking the silence that had descended upon the cemetery. Not even the birds in the trees sung, sensing the solemn mood of the couple. She steered him down one of the rows of white headstones, identical to all of the other rows of white headstones that created a grid on the rich green canvas of grass. "He was a good man." She said as they stopped at one.

"Well, he'd have to be." Tony brushed a strand of hair off her face. "You deserve the best."

"Do you mind if, uh, we have a moment to, um, talk to him? Just me and Evita?"

"Of course. I'll just be over here." He gave her a quick peck on the lips and kissed Evita on the forehead before walking over to a gravestone a few down from the one they had stopped at and reading it, saying a silent prayer – or the closest non-religious alternative – for the young soldier.

"Hello. It has been a while, yes? I just thought you should know that I had a baby. You have a daughter. She is…she is beautiful. Her name is Evita. She was born Christmas Eve, which Tony likes. I told you about Tony, my partner. Before you left you told me to talk to him. I wish you two could have met, I think you would have liked him and I think he would have liked you." She shifted Evita in her arms. "I do not know what you would have wanted me to do with her. I think, if I were you, I would want her to have a father, and although you will always be her father, and she will know who you are, I think you would want her to have a father who is there for her when she needs it. We never discussed it. I know I never even though about having children.

"You would love her, everyone does. Her name is Hebrew for 'living one'. Tony calls her Eva. Her name is not Eva, it is Evita, but they both mean the same thing, and he is the only one who calls her that, so it is his name for her. He treats her like a daughter and I think I love him more every day." She smiled down at the marble. "I want to thank you. If I had never gotten pregnant with Evita, we would never…I know it is bad, and I really wish you did not have to die for it to happen, but I am grateful and I want you to know that, even if you do not have the capability of knowing that."

Tony looked over and their eyes connected. She smiled and nodded, indicating that he could join her again. "Does he have parents that would want to meet Eva?"

"They both died when he was younger. So did his older brother. A car accident. He was the only survivor." She nestled her head into the folds of his coat as he wrapped his arms around her. "He lived with his grandmother until he was sixteen. That was when she died."

"One tragedy after another. Poor guy."

"He joked once that wherever he went death would follow him. I think Evita proves that wrong."

"I think you're right." He took one of the infant's hands between his thumb and forefinger and grinned. "She is most definitely alive."

She nodded, handing her daughter over and slipping her hand into her coat pocket, pulling out a small, roundish, dark grey pebble. Tony furrowed his brow but said nothing as she knelt down and placed the stone on top of the grave-marker. "It is a sign of remembrance."

He nodded and smiled. "I understand."

"Do you, or are you just saying that you do?"

"I really do. Stones are more permanent than flowers. They make more sense really."

* * *

"Hey, do you mind if we make a slight detour on the way to the reunion? It's on the way, just a quick stop?"

"Sure. Why?" Ziva frowned up at him, looking away from where Evita was stirring in her arms.

"I just want to visit a friend. That's all." He smiled, sitting in the driver's seat of the rental as she buckled the baby into her seat and then slipped into the passenger's side.

"Whatever." She smiled as she leaned across and kissed his cheek, letting her hand rest on his thigh as he pulled out of the car park.

The drive was quiet, filled with contemplation, only the hum of the engine and Evita's gurgling and cooing to break the silence as they pulled into another gravel car park, almost identical to the last.

"A second cemetery in a day."

"Mmm, combined with the black blanket, people might start to worry." He said quietly, parking the car and turning to her.

"What are we doing here?"

"Kate's buried here." He looked down. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, I just…I wanted to say hi."

"No, I want to." She took his hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

* * *

"Hey, Katie. You always hated me calling you that. It's been a while, huh? I should have come out and visited more, but, y'know, it's a long trek, and I dunno how much you'd really want to see me. Not that you can actually see me. Or maybe you can, I don't really know how it works. Have you been watching me, us? Checking up on us?" Evita gurgled and wriggled in his arms. "I, uh, I guess if you haven't then you'll probably be wondering why I'm holding a kid. That's something you never thought you'd see, isn't it? Me with a baby. Well, Eva, she's not mine, not biologically at least, but she is Ziva's. Do you remember Ziva? You never actually met, she was the one in the swimming pool, the one you said was intimidating me? Maybe you were right. She does. But I love her. I always felt that you were kinda disappointed in me, in my ways, but I'm trying. I have a family now. I have Ziva, and Eva. And I've got the rest of the gang, too. Abby's still Abby, she misses you, but she's always going to be her caffeinated self. McGee still lives with his computers and they are very happy together. Gibbs went from building boats to building baby furniture, but I think he's back to boats again. Ducky's still talking to the bodies, and Jimmy's still faithfully assisting him. Haven't heard from Gerald in a while. Don't even know if he's still in DC. Fornell is still a pain in the ass. I think that's everyone. Can you think of anyone else? Yeah, me neither.

"So I guess what you really want to know about is Eva. She's great. I mean, for a baby. They don't do much, y'know, but she's still great. She eats and sleeps and poops. McGee says she's basically me." He chuckled quietly at the little girl in his arms. "But biologically speaking she's not. She's Matthew's. I don't really know how the whole dead-afterlife-thing works, so you might know him and you might not. I never met the guy, but I thanked him today. He must be a good man, so I guess he's wherever you are. Try and find him, tell him that if he didn't hear us earlier that he has a beautiful daughter called Evita. It means living one in Hebrew, y'know. That's why Ziva chose it. She was born on Christmas Eve. Eva, not Ziva. That's another reason for Evita. Eve, Evita, sort of the same. The first film Ziva and I watched together was Evita. Madonna and Antonio Banderas. " He said quietly. "She probably doesn't even remember, it was such a long time ago. We miss you, Katie. We all do. But, uh, I don't know. If you hadn't died, Ziva wouldn't have come to America. Can I thank you for that? It sounds bad. I thanked Matthew for a similar thing earlier. I never wanted you to die – you were like a sister. Still are. But you gave me Ziva. You gave me an opportunity, even if indirectly. I only wish you hadn't had to die for it." He sighed, looking into Eva's eyes. She had gone still whilst he was talking, fallen silent as if paying attention to him. Of course, she was actually just playing with his tie, but he would take what he could get. "I think you'd like Eva. Everyone else does. I love her."

He jumped as small hands were placed on either side of his shoulders and a kiss placed on the back of his neck. Ziva's hand travelled down his arm and found his hand, slipping a small pebble into it. "To remember." He gripped the black stone, sniffing away the tears that clung to the corners of his eyes.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"No, Tony. Evita is amazing." Her voice too was strained.

"What would I do with out you?"

"Well, you would not be able to tie your tie, for starters." She shook her head, straightening the offending article before taking her daughter from him. "It would help if you did not play with Daddy's tie. I spend a lot of time sorting him out in the mornings." She watched as Tony knelt down before the headstone and placed the pebble on top, his fingers grazing over the chiselled letters of her name and the rose that was carved up the side. "I would like to have met her." Ziva said as he stood back up and wrapped an arm around her.

"I would have liked you to meet her as well."

* * *

"You know, we really don't have to go to this thing."

"Yes, yes we do." Ziva sighed, smoothing out his suit jacket. "You look handsome, Evita will win the hearts of everyone here, and I will be by your side throughout the whole thing." She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head on his chest. "Moral support."

"I thought that was my line?" He chuckled.

"Well, if you do not want my moral support…" She pulled away, shrugging and adjusting the grey wrap-dress slightly, feigning nonchalance.

"Wait now, did I say that?"

"Well…" She turned away from him, laughing when he engulfed her in a hug from behind and kissed the exposed skin of her shoulder. "Come on, we are already late."

"I like to make an entrance."

"I know, but I do not like to be late. It does not make good first impressions."

"Nobody as beautiful as you could make a bad first impression, Ziva."

"Are you saying all I have is my beauty?" She challenged.

"Uh, no, I was just saying that you are always the most noticeable person in a room for the good reasons. Once people get to know you, then they get the whole Ziva David package; kind, loving, caring, funny, clever…the things that you have to spend time with you to know." He grinned his charming grin and turned her around in his arms, nuzzling his face into her hair.

"Is that so… Well, in order for that to apply, they have to actually meet me."

Tony sighed and nodded. "I guess you're right."

"I thought we agreed upon this, Tony. I am always right."

"Yes Darling. Of course, Darling." He muttered sarcastically before exhaling deeply. "Alright then, let's get this over with." He watched as she removed Eva from the car and smiled as he took the car seat. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and they walked towards the reception of the school, towards the bright lights emitting from within.

Loud music played, mixing with loud talking, and the child in her arms was alert in seconds, her wide eyes focused on her mothers as her uncoordinated kicks and waves increased in pace. She was wearing what she had been earlier, the lilac babygrow and swaddled in Abby's black knitted blanket. Tony used the hand wrapped around her waist to guide her over to a table with sticky labels and marker pens and wrote his name on one, sticking it to his chest, before writing _Zee-vah_ on another and grinned, turning to her. "Ah, ah, ah." Her eyes were full of warning as his hand inched towards her breast. "Do you want to lose your hand, Dear?" She asked sweetly, leaning in and dropping her voice low. "We are in public, and you have…very little in the ways of self control." She pulled back.

"Uh, maybe you should stick the…sticky name thing on."

"Wise choice." She smirked.

He was just finishing a final label when they were joined at the table by another couple. "Tony? Tony DiNozzo? That you?"

"Miranda?" He narrowed his eyes at the blond woman, trying to work out if it was her.

"Yeah. Long time, no see." She beamed, and he felt Ziva stiffen slightly by his side.

"Miranda, this is Ziva, my, uh, my…" He fumbled, trying to grasp the right word. They had never explicitly discussed what they _were_. "My Ziva."

"Ziva David." Ziva did not extend her hand, using Evita as her excuse. "And this is Evita."

"That's a lovely name, perfect for such a beautiful child." The woman was all smiles.

"Yep." Tony nodded, sticking the label reading _Evita (Eva)_ onto the babygrow where the child had pulled the blanket away. "My beautiful girls."

"I never thought I'd see Tony DiNozzo married."

"We are not married, just…just us." Ziva gave a strained smile – maybe this was not such a good plan.

"But you are…? I mean, you have a daughter and…?" The blonde, Miranda, nodded to Tony's arm that had been moved back to Ziva's waist and his hand that was now drawing circles on her hip through the grey material of her dress.

"Evita is not…biologically speaking, Evita is not Tony's daughter. It is a very, very long story." Ziva looked down at her daughter, feeling that she was being interrogated.

"That's not to say I still don't love either of you." His other hand moved up to her face and played with the curls that hung by her cheeks, worry crossing his features. "It's complicated. But we're perfect as we are. We don't need to change."

"But you're together?"

"Yes." _Had they not just said that?_

"Oh. Right. Uh…well, hi. This is Bob, my husband." She smiled.

"Hi, Bob." Tony stuck his hand out, smiling politely. Bob nodded, shaking Tony's hand and murmuring something in Miranda's ear.

"Right, well, I think I see Janie over there." She said, grabbing Bob's hand and dragging him away. Tony let out a relieved sigh as they watched her retreating form.

"So…old flame?"

"Hm, you could say that. Used to be head cheerleader. Not aged well." He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Bob seems…nice."

"I think he seemed intimidated."

"Yeah, she always did seem to pick the weak ones. They would do things for her, like her homework."

Ziva looked up at him. "Did you ever get favours from people?"

"No, I just never did a single piece of homework." He shrugged. "We're gonna need to instil into Eva the need to complete all work from an early age."

"You think I have not already thought of that?" She raised her eyebrows at him and he chuckled, tilting his head as he conceded to the point.

"So, what was Ziva David like at high school?" She leaned into his side slightly as he walked them over to a table, surrounded by empty chairs. He took Eva as they sat down, kissing her forehead when she gurgled.

"I was…I was starting training. For Mossad and the IDF. My father wanted me to succeed, so I was to train early. School was not a priority. The only useful subjects were languages."

"Ah, yes, my polylingual ninja. You still never managed to fully master English, though."

"And I still think I speak better English than you."

"Oh, well now I'm just offended."

"Well, well, well, do my eyes deceive me or is it Anthony DiNozzo that I'm staring at? And with a child?"

"Mr Hopkins? That you?"

"Anthony. And who is this lovely lady?" The older gentleman smiled at Evita.

"This is Eva, and her Ima, Ziva."

"Ima? Hebrew?"

"Very good." Ziva smiled, impressed.

"Well, you spend enough time traveling and you pick up a thing or two."

"Ziva, Mr Hopkins taught geography. Only lesson I kinda paid attention to." Tony smiled, nodding to one of the other chairs around the table. The grey-haired man sat one round from him.

"Other that phys-ed. Did you ever travel, Anthony? You always said you would."

"I'd like to say that was how I found Ziva, but, uh. No, not really." He shrugged. "Besides, I don't need to travel now. I have everything I need."

"Now that is unfair, Tony. You have been to many places. You went to Cuba, and to Puerto Rico, before we met, and we went to Canada last year. And many boats, in many locations."

"Yeah, for work, not for fun."

"You mean you do not find work fun? I mean, that night in the hotel room, that was fun. And I always thought we had fun working together."

"We do, it's just different, a holiday."

"I have never travelled for fun." Ziva frowned. "I do not understand the need to, unless it is to see family, and I have very little of that."

"But you have friends." Tony leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"I have heard from very few of them since my father…" She looked down.

"Yeah, but you hadn't heard from them before for a long time, either." He tried to reassure her. The teacher watched the exchange with fascination.

She nodded slowly. "You have a point."

"Don't I always?"

She snorted. "Rarely. Mostly you just…burble."

"I burble?"

"Yes. One day I will video you when you sit at your desk and make you watch it."

"Are you saying I'm insufferable?"

"Sometimes. Mostly you are just you." She smiled. "And I like you as you."

"Well, I like you as you too." He watched as she rolled her eyes. "Okay, I'm not going to listen to any rant about how you're not a good person, because you are. We just have to hope that Eva won't pick up your lack of self confidence."

"Well, I am sure she will get plenty of self-confidence from you, Anthony." The old teacher broke in.

He looked down at her. "I don't know."

"I think she will. Ducky will tell you that confidence has nothing to do with genetics, but with upbringing. Nurture over nature."

Tony looked up to his old geography teacher's confused face. "I made some…difficult choices last year, and the domino effect of that meant Ziva, uh…"

"I had a boyfriend. He died." She said in her blunt manner.

"I'm so sorry."

"You do not have to be. You did not kill him. Besides, I doubt it would have lasted even with Evita. I loved another man and he, he did not think it wise for himself to love." Her gaze was fixed on Tony.

"Still gave me the best gift imaginable." Tony shrugged. "I have you two."

"I think you are getting squidgy in your old age."

"Hey, firstly, I'm not old. Secondly, I'm cuddly at best, certainly not squidgy or even squishy, and thirdly I don't think you even can be squidgy. Sappy and soppy and soft, but not squidgy."

 **I had no idea where to end it, so I ended it there.**

 **I love Evita (the musical, not the child – although I do think that in later chapters she is adorable). It is my favourite musical, as well as being my mum's (and dad's, although he always denies it when asked). Plus, it is the only film Madonna has been in that I really liked. The others were all mediocre at best – the same with a lot of her music, although I do like her voice, if that makes sense. Probably does not.**


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Do you ever have that feeling when you are waiting for something, but you do not know what you are waiting for? I feel like that right now.**

 **The first part of this was easy to write, but I had a lot of difficulty with the second half.**

Chapter Sixteen

 ** _Monday, February 11th 2008_**

A floorboard creaked. A breath was held. Eyes were rolled. "DiNozzo."

"Hi, Boss." Tony cringed, walking down the stairs. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Ziva would be home with Evita, McGee does not have any need to talk to me, nor does Abby. The director knows which floorboards creak and Ducky would have announced himself much earlier." He smiled at Tony's stunned expression.

"Right. So…good. Well, I was just checking you're okay, so I'll be going now." He turned on his heel.

"Stop, DiNozzo." Gibbs lay a hand on his agent's shoulder. Tony stuck his hands in his pockets and hung his head. He shuffled over to a wooden stall and dropped down, rubbing his face. The older man grabbed a bottle of bourbon and two jars, tipping nuts and bolts across the workbench before sloshing a measure into each. He slid one over and sipped his own. Tony rotated the glass over and over, his thumb and forefinger moving around the lip of the jar as he processed his thoughts. Gibbs gave him the time he needed to think, knowing that pressing him on the matter would not have been of any use, only sending him further into his uncertain shell. He withdrew the hand that still sat in his pocket and placed the item on the workbench next to the liquor, his hand concealing it. His fingers peeled back, pulling the lid of the box back to display the discreet diamond ring. It was small, delicate. Nothing showy or flashy. Nothing big and bold. It was simple. Private. It would suit her. "Tasteful."

"Well, I can hardly see her in some big, elaborate thing that attracts attention to her. Even now she likes to keep her anonymity – the assassin within her still, I guess."

"When are you thinking of asking her?"

"Don't know yet." He shrugged. "Not until I've done this…" He cleared his throat. "I'm not entirely sure how this sort of thing plays out, but I just…it only seems right to ask for her father's permission. Since Eli is, well, Eli, and you are the closest thing she has to a father, I thought you would be the best person to ask. So, um… Gibbs, may I have Ziva's hand in marriage?"

"It's not me you have to ask." Tony gave a questioning look. "Ziva. She's the only one whose opinion should matter."

"Gibbs, please?" Tony grit his teeth together, frustrated by his boss.

"You had my permission the day I told you I was making an exception for the pair of you. You'll always have my permission when it comes to Ziva, Tony. She loves you, you certainly love her. That's life."

"Yeah, well, I haven't asked her yet, I don't even know how." He sighed. "And there's a chance that she won't even say yes. A really high chance actually. I mean, we have never actually even been out on a date together, and what with Eva and all… I don't know, really. We'll just see what happens."

"Don't leave it too long, DiNozzo. She's already waited long enough for you." He smiled proudly. "And she'll say yes. I have no doubt."

"Thanks, Boss. Really. Can you…I want it to be a surprise, you know?"

"Sure." He nodded, and Tony knew that Gibbs was a safe, impenetrable to even the most skilled of interrogators – a useful trait when trying to keep things from Ziva. "Tony, if you and Ziva ever do need a night off, you know, to…date, then you only ever have to ask. We'll all be happy to babysit, whenever you need it."

* * *

He toed his shoes off by the door to the bedroom, unbuckling his belt and stepping out of his trousers when they tumbled to the floor. He unbuttoned his shirt, folding it over the back of the wicker chair next to the dressing table. Making certain not to make any noise as he slid under the covers next to her, curling himself around the ball of warmth that she had cocooned herself into, slipping his arm around her body and burying his face into her hair.

"Where have you been?" Her voice was quiet, almost fragile.

"Nowhere." He sighed. "I thought you were asleep."

"Tony." Threatening. "Where were you?"

"I went to talk to Gibbs. I had a thought about the case from the other week."

"Urgent?" Nonchalant.

"Pretty urgent, yeah."

"But you could not tell me about it?" Jealous.

"It wasn't like that. I just had a thought about it, wondered if it would come in handy for the prosecution and couldn't believe that he wouldn't have already seen it, so I went to check with him. He had, it was unnecessary for me to go over there."

"You could have left a note." Hurt.

"I didn't think I'd be gone more than twenty minutes. I didn't think you'd even notice me gone."

"Evita needed feeding." Empty.

"Look at me, Ziva. Please?" She remained facing away from him, and he remained staring at the back of her head. "Please, I need you to look at me and see that I'm not lying."

"I do not care who you were with, Tony. Not tonight. I am too tired tonight." Exhausted. All of the above. Her voice saturated with disappointment and loneliness and everything he never wanted to hear from her.

"I was with Gibbs. Phone him up if you want proof but please, please believe me. I want nothing more that you and Eva. You are the only two people in the entire world who matter to me. Please, please believe me?" He was close to begging now, his own voice tearful. "Look this way. Please, look at me. Come on."

"Tony, I woke up and you were not in the apartment. Your keys were gone, your coat was gone." Tears cascaded down her cheeks. "You were gone."

"I should have told you I was going. I just hadn't wanted to wake you." It broke his heart to see the tear tracks that did not quite look fresh enough to be only since he had walked in. He brushed the salty streams away with his thumbs, trying not to cry himself at what he had done to her.

She leant into his hand, grateful for the warmth that was cupping her cheek, grateful that his presence was enough to immediately placate her, calming her down and soothing her when she needed it. When he pressed his lips firmly to her forehead she dissolved further into tears, crying harder and burying her face into his chest, sobbing as she gripped his arms. She would not tell him that it had not been Evita that had woken her, but that she had woken Evita with the screaming of her nightmares. She would not tell him that she had not had a nightmare in so long, not since he had been sleeping by her side, and that his absence had triggered a relapse; images of explosions and fathers and brothers and bullets and orders flickering through her mind. She just wanted to curl up in his arms. She just wanted to hide there, like she had hid in her mother's arms when she was a child. She wanted to forget that she was an assassin, forget all of the orders she had followed, lives she had taken, and just wanted to be Ziva. A Ziva who did not dream of blood, but of…she was stumped there; if she did not dream about what she dreamt about, what was there to dream about? She was hardly someone who dreamt of fairies and flowers. Evita. She wanted to dream of Evita, and of Tony. "I wish I was not me, Tony." She whispered.

"If you weren't you then we would never have met. I would not spend every hour of every day thinking about you, Evita would not be Evita, and I would not love you. Now, what further reason can you want to _be_ you?"

"I do not want for everyone to think of me as a killer."

"Nobody does. Not at NCIS, at least. We may joke about it, but we know you are more than that." He was murmuring into her hair, her face still pressed to his bare chest. "Where's all this coming from?" He was not surprised when she did not respond. "I love you as you are, Ziva. I love you. I will continue saying it until the morning, and I will not stop until I think you truly believe me. And then I will say it again. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I can go on for the rest of my life like this. I love you. I love you…" And so he continued for the rest of the night to murmur quietly those three words, over and over as she slept, not caring that in the morning he would be shattered, or that he would have dark circles under his eyes, because it was Ziva, and he would do anything for her, even if it meant receiving a harsh look from Gibbs as his head lolled and loud snores emitted from his mouth as he slumped at his desk the next morning.

 **I have a feeling that the response to this chapter will either focus on the positive of Tony about to propose, or the negative of Tony being the bad guy here and should have told her he was leaving. I would rather the former, but it is up to you what you think. I cannot tell you your opinions.**


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Possibly one of my longest author's notes yet – there is a chapter here somewhere, after all the bold text. Oh, and kids, cover your ears for the words with asterisks:**

 **To the guest who reviewed about the archaic nature of Tony's asking Gibbs for Ziva's hand in marriage; since you clearly do not like the way in which the last chapter played out, you will probably not read any further anyway, but if you do I shall voice my opinion, since I am in a bad mood and I am an opinionated b**ch.**

 **I never said it was sweet. It was not something that I put in to be** ** _sweet_** **. It is tradition. It is respectful. Maybe permission was the wrong word, perhaps blessing should have been more accurate. But either way it would have the same outcome.**

 **The way I see Tony as a character, I personally think it is something he would do, out of tradition. That is the way I see him, behind all the bravado. It feels like something he would do.**

 **Besides, if it is archaic for Tony to ask for Gibbs permission/blessing for Ziva's hand in marriage, and you object to the idea of Gibbs' ownership of Ziva so much, then why did you not complain in Chapter 2, when Gibbs gave Tony permission to tell Ziva his feelings. Just out of curiosity, do you object to every story where permission is asked for, given or denied, either for a simple relationship or marriage?**

 **I agree, no person owns another, but that is not what this is about, not anymore. All of my married friends, they asked their wives' fathers for their blessings and permission. When discussing marriage with my father, he told both my brother and I that it is the respectful thing to do. The traditional thing to do. Maybe I am just old-fashioned. But that is how I have been brought up.**

 **Another thing, surely if such a tradition, a tradition that still takes place, should be considered archaic then maybe the other traditions should be stopped, too. There will not be a dress, but if there is the dress should be the purest of whites, because whilst the bride is by no means pure, that is such an archaic tradition and it does not matter. There will not be a ring, there will be no down-on-one-knee proposal, there will be no aisle to walk down – which, in actuality, the aisle of a church are the two walkways either side of the pews and not down the middle, so the bride does not walk down the aisle during a wedding anyway – there will be no cake, no first dance.**

 **You know what, why do I not just stop the story here? I think that will be quite perfect. Means I do not have to keep up my schedule of remembering to post. As a matter of fact I think actually I might go and delete the rest of the chapters from my hard drive now. How does that sound? Or maybe you could take over, rewrite what is already written and finish uploading the rest. I expect you could do a much better job than me. How about you just drop me a PM and I will send you what I have left? That way, you could remove all of the archaic traditions and have the story go your way. How does everybody else feel about that? Do not worry, you do not have to answer that, everybody else, it was rhetorical. I am sure that the new writer will be happy to take all queries, yes?**

 **Oh, wait. Unless I am much mistaken, this is my story. Which means that I am, believe it or not, going to write my story in the way that I wish my story to be written. Which means that, archaic or not, the traditions that I want to include will be included, and the traditions that I do not want to be included will not be included. I am going to continue to write the story how I wish for it to be written, and if you do not like that then tough. But it is my story, and you can easily stop reading. I have said this before, but I will say it again, I like constructive criticism, because it helps the improvement of a writer's ability, but complaining because you do not like a story – what is the point? You do not need to complain, I presume nobody forced you? If so then please tell me, I will apologise, but it really did just seem to be a waste of your own time. And yes, this whole author's note is a big waste of time, but I am angry, I am having a very, very bad day, I feel ill, I am really, really tired now, I have a headache and, as I said earlier, I am a b**ch. It is something I have been told before, and I am certain I will be told it many times again.**

 **I apologise. I am so, so sorry for all of that. It is another author's note that I think is cruel, and just like me, but it is another that I feel needs to be said. I am so, so sorry. Again.**

Chapter Seventeen

 ** _Friday, February 15_** ** _th_** ** _2008_**

A soft voice penetrated his sleep-hazed mind and woke him from his slumber. It took a moment, as he groped about the covers to find his lover, to realise that it was her voice he could hear singing a lullaby, carried over the baby monitor. He rubbed his eyes and looked to the clock on the table, wrinkling his nose at the hour. 0400hrs. Too early to be up, but too late to go back to sleep. He sighed, slipping out of bed and grabbing a discarded t-shirt, pulling it over his head on his way through to the pale yellow nursery. He stood in the doorway, watching as Ziva cradled the small infant in her arms, quiet lyrics coming from her lips. He waited a moment once she had finished before opening his mouth and breaking the peaceful silence with a whisper. "I think you do a better job than Madonna."

She looked up and smiled sadly. "Tali would have sung it better. She was always more interested in singing than dancing. I was the other way around."

"I think it was sung beautifully."

"It is a beautiful song."

"Mmm. Sung by a beautiful woman."

"Well, you always did like blondes." There were traces of bitterness mixed with the humour.

He was left confused for a moment. "No, I meant you."

"Oh."

He changed the subject slightly. "We should watch the film again."

"Yes, we should." She smiled at memories of movie nights and pizza, early beginnings for them.

"It was the first one we watched together. Do you remember?"

She chuckled quietly as he walked over, careful not to wake the now sleeping child. "How could I forget. You turning up on my doorstep with a DVD clutched in your hand and a six-pack in the other, your horror when you discovered I did not own a TV, much less a DVD player. I was horrified when you went and brought the TV off my neighbour."

"Why? There was an ad in the lobby saying he was selling it." He shrugged.

"It was not so much that you actually asked him, but the time that you asked him. It was 2300hrs. And then you insisted upon paying for it as well."

"Well, I was bugging you to watch _Evita_ with me at the time, it seemed fair to give you the stuff to actually watch it on. Besides, you made up for it with dinner." He sat on the arm of the rocking chair, playing with her hair. "I didn't think you remembered."

"Where do you think Evita's name comes from?"

"Well, I, you said it was Hebrew."

"It is. It is also Spanish. Eva is Spanish, though, not Hebrew." She looked at him, her voice a subtle reminder that she still was not so certain she liked him shortening her daughter's name.

"Well, I'm not from Israel." He shrugged, dropping a kiss to her forehead.

"You are not from Spain, either." She laughed, leaning into his side slightly as they rocked. Evita stirred slightly, and they were both silent as they waited to see if she woke. Soon enough she nestled back down into the warmth of her mother's arms and resumed her sleep.

"If you want me to stop calling her Eva I will."

"No. No, you are quite alright to call her Eva. It is specific to you." Their voices had dropped back to the quieter whispers they had been using when he had first broken the silence.

"Thank you." He whispered, pressing his lips to the top of her head. The creek of the wooden chair and the gentle breathes of the family were the only noises in the dimly lit room.

"Did I wake you? When you came through?"

"No. Was she okay?"

"Just needed feeding." She fiddled with the fabric of her daughter's babygrow, her eyes full of love. "She seems to sleep better when you are in the room."

"Just like her mother then. I think she just sleeps better when she's in your arms." He nuzzled his face into her hair, inhaling the unidentifiable scent that he could only associated with Ziva. "Sing it again."

She looked up at him, questioning, but complied, humming the first few bars of _Don't Cry for Me Argentina_.

* * *

They were accosted as soon as they stepped out of the elevator by their resident Goth, her pigtails bouncing. "So? How was last night? Was it amazing? Was it romantic?"

"Don't know what you're talking about, Abs." Tony shrugged, being forced into a hug by the fact that Abby was not allowed to hug whomever was holding Evita at the time.

"What is Auntie Abby bubbling about, hey?" Ziva asked the child, her bright eyes staring up at her.

"Babbling." Tony corrected automatically.

"I thought you said that Abby was bubbly."

"I did, but she babbles, not bubbles."

"I am confused."

Tony exhaled in exasperation. "And here I thought we were getting somewhere with the idioms."

"Anyway, what is it that Abby is going on about?" Ziva asked as they walked towards their collection of desks. Ziva sat at hers, shifting Evita in her arms so she was more comfortable. It had become routine for Ziva to come into work with the baby and sit at her desk, more to insure that nobody was employed to replace her, no matter how temporarily, than anything else. And it meant that if she ever had any doubts there was always someone she could ask for advice. Gibbs had become used to her questions on whether Evita was okay, and whether what she was doing was correct.

"Well, last night was Valentine's day."

"So was the rest of the day, Abby. And like we said yesterday, and the day before, we didn't want to do anything special. We just watched _Casablanca_ with Eva and then went to bed." Tony shrugged. "Eva fell asleep before the film even started."

Abby seemed to deflate at this. "Really? I was convinced you would be doing something special. Y'know, it's your first Valentine's day together as a couple, and I just thought…"

"It is also our first Valentine's day with Evita, Abby. Romance and a baby do not go hand in hand. Maybe one day you yourself will discover that?" She smiled kindly at her friend, trying to hide her amusement at Abby's horror-filled expression.

"Abs?" Gibbs looked over, panicked, just as McGee's head whipped up, an unreadable mix of jealousy, confusion and anger written on his face.

"What? No. No. I'm not…no. What?! Ziva, I'm not…"

It was Ziva's turn to be confused now. "Oh, I never meant that you are pregnant, I just meant that one day, maybe, you too shall have a child."

"Right. Well, don't scare us like that, okay, Ziva." McGee shook his head, turning back to his screen.

"McGee? What's your problem?" Tony frowned, uncomfortable about the fact that he had snapped at Ziva.

"Nothing, just…don't you think there are enough kids here already?"

"There's only Eva. Why, you got a problem with Eva? 'Cause if you do then you can tell us." Tony's countenance suggested otherwise as he moved himself between McGee and Ziva's desks.

"I'm going for coffee." McGee grumbled as he stood, marching off in a huff towards the elevator.

"What's his problem?" Tony frowned after the man he considered a brother.

"Been like that all morning." Gibbs said gruffly.

There was a tense silence as everyone tried to formulate a coherent sentence. "It's not that I don't like kids, I love them, really, and I love Evita most of all, it's just…I'm not ready yet, y'know, and I want to have kids with the right guy, if I do even get round to the whole kids thing. I'm just not ready." Abby shrugged and Ziva smiled.

"I know. I understand, Abby. I just…I was just thinking about the future, that is all. It was just hypothetical." She looked down at the blue-eyed child, who was now tugging at her loose curls. "Do you want to hold her?"

"Can I?" Abby asked hesitantly.

"Of course. You are always welcome to hold your niece, Abby. It never normally bothers you."

"I know, I just…you've got me thinking's all." She carefully accepted the child, who squirmed slightly before settling down and reaching up for one of the black plaits that hung by Abby's shoulders. "Hi there. Did your Ima scare Auntie Abby? She did. She did, that's right."

Ziva watched as Abby relaxed into playing with the child, happy that her daughter was safe in the arms of her friend, before turning her attention to Tony. He was still stood in the middle of the bullpen, his hands clenched into fists by his side and the muscles on his back tense and taut beneath his dress shirt. She stood up and walked over to him, running her hands along his shoulders and down his arms, using her fingers to open his fists up and entwine their hands together as she rested her forehead at the nape of his neck, pressing kisses repeatedly to a spot on his spine as she felt the tension ebb away. "He did not mean it, Tony. He is probably just tired."

"Tired? He doesn't know the meaning of the word tired. The only person on this team with the right to be tired is you."

"And you. You have been amazing with her when she wakes up." She reminded him gently.

"This is nothing compared to all night frat parties."

"Nor is it any different to long cases and late stakeouts. I am not tired either." She tried to placate him.

"Right, so he has no excuse."

She sighed. "Tony, McGee has a life too. Maybe you should ask him about it." He turned around so he was facing her, his hands finding her hips. Her fingertips moved to his face, playing with his hairline as she looked up at him.

"No. If he has a problem he should man up and say it."

"Like you are so good at doing?" Ziva asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She pressed a kiss to his jawbone, running one of her fingers along the spot that her lips had brushed, before moving back over to her desk and accepting Evita back from Abby.

* * *

Ziva was standing with Eva by the window, looking out across the Navy Yard, when she spotted McGee sat on a bench, looking rather glum. She turned to get her coat and Evita's blanket, when she decided that it might be best not to take her child, given McGee's outburst earlier that day. She looked over to Gibbs and smiled. "I think somebody wants their Grandpa Gibbs." The older man smiled, a rare sight, his steely blue eyes softening, and carefully held Eva, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I am going to get some tea, does anybody else want anything?"

"Coffee for me, please." Tony looked up. "Do you want me to go?" He knew how much she hated leaving Evita with anybody, even Gibbs, although the older man was still the only other person she trusted the child with other than themselves.

"No, I need the fresh air. Gibbs?"

"Coffee."

She smiled and nodded, shrugging her coat on and heading towards the elevator, down to the lobby and outside. She walked over to where McGee sat, standing in front of him. "I thought you were getting coffee."

"I did."

"Two hours ago." He kept his gaze fixed firmly to the ground. "Well, I am going to the coffee shop. Do you want anything?"

"No." He grumbled, struggling to keep up the rude façade.

"I will probably need someone to help me carry the drinks back." It was no suggestion. Her tone was clear; he was going to help her carry the drinks back.

"Ziva…"

"Walk with me, McGee." He complied, realising that Ziva was still probably not the safest of people to argue with, although whether she had ever been safe he was uncertain. They walked in silence through the cold streets, both flashing their IDs when they reached the main gate. "If you would rather me not come in with Evita, all you have to do is say, McGee. I will understand." Her voice was gentle, soft and caring.

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?" She asked kindly, her tone laced with concern. "We are worried about you, McGee."

He paused, wondering if he could trust her, and then remembered that Ziva was an impenetrable safe. She wouldn't break under interrogation. "It's Sarah."

"Your sister?" Ziva's face grew more worried. Truth be told, she liked McGee's sister.

"Yeah. She came round last night." He took a deep breathe, stopping in the middle of the street and turning to Ziva. "She think's she's pregnant. I mean, how can you _think_ you're pregnant? Either you are pregnant or you are not pregnant. There's no thinking involved." His face was red, and it certainly was not from the biting wind that was blustering around them. "She's just a baby herself, Ziva. She's too young."

Ziva sighed, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "It is her choice, McGee."

"She's too young to make choices like that."

Ziva looked down. "How old is she?"

"Twenty two."

"She is barely three years younger than me, McGee. Do you think I am too young to have Evita?"

"No, but you're more mature than she is." He protested, his voice raising and drawing attention to them. "She's just a kid."

"So are many parents. Juliet was fourteen when her marriage to Paris was planned."

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on, McGee. Romeo and Juliet?"

"Right."

"And she would have been expected to have children not long after that."

"Yeah, but in those days, life expectancy was shorter, and contraception was not as good." He grumbled. "I just thought she would be smarter than this."

Ziva paused for a minute as they continued their walk to the coffee shop. "Do you want me to talk to her?"

His head whipped around. "Oh, no, I couldn't ask you to do that. No, you're busy with Evita and everything."

"Maybe Evita will…uh, how do you say, um…with the ice, yes?"

"Break the ice."

"Yes, Evita will break the ice." Ziva smiled.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, I mean, I do not wish to blow my own trombone-"

"Trumpet."

"-blow my own trumpet, but everyone loves her."

"No, I meant are you sure that you'll talk to her?"

"Of course I am. Why would I offer if I was not?" She looped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. "I think Tony is worried we have done something to upset you."

"You guys didn't do anything." He smiled at how much motherhood had softened her. A year ago, she would never have even thought of putting her arm around him in comfort, but now she was walking with her arm in his and her head on his shoulder, platonically, in a way that reminded him of Abby. And, although it shocked him, he liked it. He thought about mentioning it, bringing up the fact that he never thought he would see her so willingly close to anyone other than Tony and Gibbs, but decided against it, not wanting to ruin their little moment of friendship. He could see why Tony had been so hesitant to do anything that might damage their friendship – Ziva David really was a good friend.

* * *

Tony's ear's pricked up at the sound of the elevator dinging, and he looked over to watch who walked out. Ziva had been gone for a long time, not that Gibbs seemed to mind as he held Eva. "I will come over tonight McGee. Do not worry about it." Ziva said as they walked over to their desks, pressing the quickest, most chaste kiss to McGee's cheek in history. But even the small gesture ignited sparks of betrayal in Tony, making his blood boil. He ignored the disposable cup placed on his desk, instead favouring to walk over to McGee, standing menacingly in front of him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting on with my work."

"You can't just snap at Ziva, then go sneaking off with her."

"We hardly snuck off, Tony." McGee sighed, looking up at his partner.

"Well what would you call it?"

"I…" McGee looked over to Ziva, who stood standing on edge by her desk, watching the exchange in a stunned silence. "I…" Tony took a step closer and Ziva leapt into action, pulling him away.

"Tony, leave him. He did nothing wrong." She wrapped a hand around his tensed bicep. "He just asked me to talk to Sarah. That is all."

"Sarah as in Little Miss McGee?"

"Yes." Tim said. "I am not attracted to Ziva in any way. Not that you're unattractive, Ziva, because you are, it's just, you're not attractive to me…no, that came out wrong, I mean, I think you're beautiful, but you're, well, I mean…"

"McGee, that hole's not gonna get any smaller." Gibbs called over.

"Yes Boss."

"Why does Ziva need to talk to Sarah?"

McGee looked to Ziva for help. "She just needs some advice."

"Advice that Ziva can give?" He looked between his two partners sceptically.

"Yes, Tony."

"Look, I'm, uh, I'm sure we can all have dinner tonight. You can come round and we can watch a film or something whilst Ziva's talking to Sarah."

He continued to look suspiciously between the two, but nodded the affirmative anyway. "You know, our place actually has a proper dining table, and I have a better film collection."

"What a good idea. I can cook." Ziva smiled, touching her lips to Tony's.

"Great. We'll be over at around seven."

* * *

"What is wrong?" Ziva asked as Tony sat on the couch with Evita.

"I just wanted today to be perfect, and it really wasn't." He sighed.

"And why was it supposed to be so perfect?"

He gave non-committal shrug. "Just was." His eyes flicked over to his jacket. "Left inside pocket."

"What? Tony, what are you on about?"

"Just look inside." She followed his order, fishing around in the pocket until her hand hit a solid cube.

"Tony, what…?" The navy blue ring box sat on her palm when she withdrew it from his jacket.

"We said nothing special yesterday. I don't know if it's too soon, I mean, we've never even been on a proper date, but I just…I wanted to ask."

"Tony…are you…asking me to marry you?"

"Yeah. It was just an idea, y'know. If you don't think it's the right thing to do, then it doesn't matter. I mean, it does matter, to me, but I won't mind if you don't want to. Well, I probably will, but I won't let it show."

"And what if I do think it is the right thing to do?" There was a knock at the door and both of them cursed, Ziva in Hebrew, Tony in English, at McGee's terrible timing. "I will get it." She contemplated kissing him but changed her mind, curling her fingers around the little blue box and walking to the door of the apartment. She hit the button for the intercom with quite a force, releasing the outside door. Ziva forced a smile as she opened the door to him and Sarah. "McGee, your timing is impeccable."

"Are we…are we interrupting something?" He asked hesitantly.

"No." She snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Sorry. That was rude. I am sorry. Come in, please." Her smile was more natural this time. "Come in." She opened the door wider and allowed them in. "Dinner will be ready in about quarter of an hour."

"Hi." Tony said, standing up. "Eva needs changing." He pecked Ziva on the cheek. "I think we've run out of wipes."

"There is a new pack in the drugstore bag on the bathroom counter." She called through to his retreating form.

"Okay."

"I hope chicken and rice is okay."

"It's fine, Ziva. Really. Better than anything I could cook."

"The only recipe Tim knows is the menu for the Chinese place down the road." Sarah muttered.

"At least I don't put peanut-butter on pizza." He retorted.

"Now, now, childr…" She was cut off as Tony called through.

"ZIVA!?"

"I will be right back." She dodged out of the room, finding Tony in the bathroom with a box in his hand.

"There a reason you need this?" He waved the pregnancy test in the air.

She cringed. "It is not for me."

"Then who's it for?" She paused, wondering if telling Tony would be wrong. "Ziva?"

"It is for Sarah."

"Sarah McGee?" He hissed. "As in McGee's little sister Sarah McGee? The Sarah McGee stood in our living room right now?"

"What other Sarah do we know? That is why they are over here, that is what is bothering McGee." She sighed, placing her hand on his cheek. "I offered to talk to her. That is all." Her thumb ran a course along his cheekbone as her fingers curled and uncurled slightly, her fingertips caressing his cheek and playing with the ends of his short hair. He bent his neck down so their foreheads were pressed together.

"Good." He breathed a sigh of relief and her brown eyes flicked up to his closed ones.

"Yes. Of course." She tried to keep the disappointment from her voice as she quickly pecked his lips and pulled away. "Do you want me to change Evita?" She smiled, tickling her daughter's stomach.

"No, I'm doing it. Go look after our guests."

* * *

"That was great, Ziva. Really." McGee placed his cutlery on his plate and smiled cordially, although the tension in the room was palpable. Sarah had spent the whole meal staring at her plate, pushing food around on it, whilst Tony tried to lighten the atmosphere with his incessant talking. For the most part Ziva kept quiet, casting furtive glances across to Sarah at every available moment.

"It is nothing, just something I knocked up." There was a cough from Tony, a splutter from McGee and the sound of a glass breaking as Sarah knocked hers off the table.

"Together. You knocked it together." Tony said quietly. At her puzzled look he shook his head, a silent promise to explain later. "I'll clean up. Why don't you go through to the living room?" He smiled at everyone.

"I'll help with the glass." McGee said as the women stood up. Ziva guided Sarah away from the mess on the floor, leading her through the glass doors that separated the dinning room from the lounge. Evita was in her Moses basket just inside the door and Ziva smiled as soon as her eyes fell on her daughter, scooping the child up when she cooed.

"My brother told you, didn't he? That's why we're here, isn't it?" The younger woman said bitterly as she slumped down onto the sofa. "I thought I could trust him to keep a secret."

Ziva sat down gently next to her, frowning as she considered how to approach the topic of discussion that the whole night was to revolve around. "He mentioned it because he is worried about you. You are his baby sister, in his eyes it seems impossible that you are growing up." She looked uncomfortable for a moment. "My sister, Tali, if she were alive right now, she would be only a few months younger than you, and if she were to come to me…I do not know what I would do. I think I might shout at her, and cry a little. And I would make sure she is certain she knows what she is doing. But I would, after I got used to the idea, hug her, and support her with everything. Your brother will do the same when he comes around to the idea, it will just take some time." She looked down at her child. "Do you…do you want to hold her?"

"Oh, I don't think I'd be very good."

"Then I shall teach you. Hold your arms like I am." She nodded as her friend's sister followed her directions. "Support her head. If you do nothing else right, you must support her head. There, like that. Now, support her bottom as well. Perfect. There you go." She beamed as Sarah's confidence grew.

"She's really small."

"She has grown a lot since she was born." Ziva played with the little girl's foot.

"Tim said she was born on Christmas Eve, in the middle of a snowstorm, in a towel warehouse."

"Your brother is right. We were on our way home from Vermont, and I went into labour. A word of advise; do not take any trips close to your due date. Stay close to home." She chuckled slightly. "How certain are you that you are pregnant."

"I took a test and it said positive."

"Only one?" Sarah nodded.

"You said you would make certain your sister knew what she was doing? What if she said she didn't?"

Ziva paused. "I think I would probably shout at her some more, and then I might hug her some more, and then we would consider her options. Are you uncertain, then?" She nodded again, her eyes filled with worry. "You said you only took one test. It is not likely, but it might be a false positive. Sometimes, if you did not follow the instructions correctly…it is highly unlikely, but… I am not guaranteeing anything, and it is unlikely, but statistically there is a small chance." She took Evita back and placed her in the bassinette. "There is a box containing two pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter. You can leave them in there whilst you wait, Tony knows not to go in there, and he will tell your brother." She hesitated slightly before wrapping her arms around the younger woman. "You are not alone. You have Tim, and if you ever need anything, anything at all, then I will always be here, as will Tony." She pulled back, returning to her relaxed _at rest_ position, her hands tucked neatly behind her back.

* * *

"You know, she's not a bad kid because of this, McGee. She's not really a kid at all. I mean, she's only like, a couple of years younger than Ziva, and, well, Ziva's y'know… 'cause it would be really, really wrong if she were just a kid, 'cause we, um…" He scratched his head, trying to decipher the destination board for the weird train of thought his mind had hopped on.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Doing so already." He said as he filled the sink up with soapy water, starting to wash the dishes from dinner.

"She's still a kid though."

"A mature kid."

"A kid all the same." McGee glared at Tony as he scraped the plates, passing them over to be washed. "I mean, what does she think she is doing?"

"She's being a person. She's doing what people do. She's making her own way." He sighed. "Look, McGee, you know how proud you are of Eva?"

He hesitated. "Yeah."

"Just imagine when you have a niece with your own blood. Just think how proud you'll be then?"

"Yeah, well, blood isn't everything, Tony. You should know that." Tim remarked, regretting it almost instantly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just mean that, biologically speaking, Evita is not yours, and therefore you should know that blood is not everything." He defended himself meekly, his voice trembling as Tony glared at him.

"Never bring her into anything, McGee. Understand me? Evita and Ziva stay out of any argument you can ever think of." His voice was low and threatening. "How would you like me to make an argument out of Sarah? Or Abby?"

"Tony, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, you've said it now." Tony huffed, running a hand through his hair. "Just think, okay, before you say things. What happens when she actually understands you and you go round announcing that she's not actually my child? Huh? Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Tony, please. I think you're over reacting just a little bit." McGee sighed, passing another plate over.

"What, like you did today at work?"

A small cough interrupted them and their argument ceased as they turned to look at Ziva as she stood in the doorway. "McGee, Sarah is in the living room. I think she is wanting you to take her home."

"Right." He smiled weakly at her. "Thanks for everything. I'll, uh, I'll take her home then. We'll let ourselves out." He nodded before walking through to the living room, leaving Ziva to narrow her eyes at Tony.

"What? He started it."

"I do not care. He is your friend, so stop treating him like an enemy." She shook her head as she walked over, wrapping her arms around him. "I am too tired for it tonight."

He wiped his hand on a tea towel and reciprocated the hug. "Entertaining always does exhaust you. Come on, I'm almost finished and then we can go to bed."

"I shall settle Evita down, then."

* * *

"She is asleep." Ziva yawned as she padded through to the bedroom, dropping into bed next to Tony and curling into his side.

"Mmm. That means you're all mine now."

"Well, I do not know about that…" She smirked as his face fell. "Well, I do not think there is anything that states that I am all yours anywhere, is there?"

"Well, no, but…"

"Right then." She expected him to fight back, expected her probing to prompt his earlier question to resurface. But to no avail as he lapsed into silence, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

"So, Sarah…?"

"She left the test too long when she took it the other day. She read the three minutes as eight minutes when she was reading the instructions."

"So she's not pregnant?"

"No." Ziva shook her head. "I could not tell if she was relieved or not."

"Probably a bit of both. McGee will probably be relieved though. He doesn't have to worry about his baby sister becoming a mum for now."

She nodded, staring at his face, before coming to a decision over whether to broach the subject of his earlier almost-question. She stuck a hand into the pocket of the pair of Tony's jogging bottoms she was wearing and pulled out the ring box, placing it on his bare chest. "Did you mean it?"

"I don't joke about marriage."

"Neither do I." They stared at one another, a tense atmosphere settling over them in the dark. After what felt like an aeon, but was less than a minute, he leapt out of bed, catching the blue box when it tumbled off his chest. "Tony, what are you doing?" She sat up, the sheets pooling around her waist.

"I'm doing it properly." She saw his eyes twinkling in the dark. "Ow! Damn bed post!" She laughed as he stumbled over to her, kneeling down onto one knee in the dark. "Ziva David, will you marry me?"

"Well, I shall have to think about it…"

"What? I…" He stuck his tongue out when he realised she was joking. "I thought you said you did not joke about marriage?"

"I could not resist." She sniggered as he stood up, kneeling on the bed and placing a hand either side of her. Their noses brushed and as he leaned further and further forwards she leaned further and further backwards, their eyes locked and their breaths mingling as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

"You just thought you'd play with my mind, didn't you?" She grinned and nodded, gasping slightly as his hand slipped under the OSU shirt she was wearing and brushed up her stomach. "So, what do you say?"

"Okay." She reached her hand up, running it through his short hair. Just as their lips connect a cry crackled through the baby monitor on the bedside cabinet.

"I'll go." He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and stood up, a grin covering his whole face. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

 **I am so, so sorry about the author's note at the start.**

 **I am not so sure about this one, it has taken quite a while. I just… I think I will really need your thoughts on this one. It can be surprisingly hard to write a whole story without any advice or comments. Just hold out to the end.**

 **Just in case you are interested, I have finished this chapter tonight, Tuesday 18** **th** **October 2016. Currently, I have finished all chapters up to chapter 12, then 13, 14,15 and 16 need completing, as does chapter 24. Then all I have left to write are the next 6, for which I already have plans. Of course, since you are reading chapter 17, you have already read 13, 14, 15 and 16, and you will probably soon be reading the rest. This seems to be taking a while though, since I started at the beginning of this year. Well, maybe it will be done by Christmas. Or New Years.**

 **On another note, is anybody else having problems with the traffic graphs at the moment? They keep coming up with an error page.**


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**I do not like this one, either. I fear my writing is going down hill. I have hit a bump in the road at too high a speed and my writing car is now upside down in a ditch.**

Chapter Eighteen

 ** _Tuesday, May 27_** ** _th_** ** _2008_**

"No, I do not like it, I think I will change."

Tony rolled his eyes from where he sat cross-legged on the bed with Eva propped up against his chest. Fed up of the fashion-show he was being subjected to he shook his head and covered Eva's ears with his hands. "If you take those clothes off then I am asking the neighbours to look after Eva, locking the bedroom door, and we will be an hour late for work. I am not sitting through you undressing one more time. You look perfect as you are." He smiled at the white blouse and black pencil skirt she was wearing. "Remind me again why you own this little outfit?"

"Same reason Abby owns a purple polyester skirt and blazer: juries are, apparently, more likely to take me seriously, in a court setting at least, when I am wearing something like this." She shook her head. "I do not understand why prosecutors always think that I do not look presentable enough in my usual clothes."

"I think it has something to do with the fact that you tend to have more hiding places for all of your weapons in your cargo pants. Not that I don't love your cargo pants, I just think that you do not look as…smart, business-like in your cargo pants and sweaters. Actually, I don't think anyone could pull that off as court-wear…" He trailed off at her scowl.

"You do not think I can carry as many weapons when I am wearing this as I can when I am wearing my cargo pants?"

"Well, I…"

"Maybe later I will let you see just how many weapons I am carrying. Right now you need to choose a tie so we can get to work."

"Hear that, Eva? I need a tie. Which tie are we going to choose today?" He picked her up and walked over to the open wardrobe, holding her so she could see the rack of ties. "Which one, huh? That one? You think that one? Good choice. Eva has good taste." He smiled, taking the tie that she had reached for. Ziva watched the two interact, sitting down on the chair by the dressing table and smiling at her family.

* * *

Tim blew a raspberry at Evita as she sat on his desk whilst he supported her back. She gurgled, reaching out and patting his cheek, an action he knew her mother to be fond of. She returned the raspberry, collapsing into giggles when he wrinkled his nose at her. "What have I told you two about this place not being a day-care?" Gibbs voice cut through the room, though not in a harsh way, as he walked through to find the bullpen empty apart from McGee and the child. "Where are they, McGee?"

"I um, I don't know, Boss. I'm just playing with Evita. Ziva said something about getting dressed." There was a reason they were all dressed formally, why Abby was dressed as reservedly as she knew how to, why Gibbs was in a suit and why Evita was wearing a white dress with white tights. There was a reason for why they had no case and why there was an air of excitement buzzing around the office.

"Okay. We're leaving in quarter of an hour. Make sure you're ready. Abby and Ducky are on their way up." He made his way over to the men's room and knocked. "I know you two are in there." He waited a second, withholding a quiet chuckle when the door unlocked and was pulled open to reveal his two agents.

"I was straightening his tie."

"And that required the privacy of the men's room?"

"You said to keep it out of the office, Boss. Technically, we're out of the office." Tony's hands were firmly on Ziva's hips, his chin resting on the top of her head. "It was just an innocent good luck kiss. And, I really did need help with the tie. I was trying to do this fancy knot thing, but it uh, it went a bit wrong."

"That is the understatement of the year." Ziva sniggered, squirming slightly when he brushed his fingers around the sides of her waist, finding the only spot he knew on her to be ticklish. She swatted his hand away, trying to keep a straight face.

"You're not going to need luck, DiNozzo. You'll do fine."

* * *

"Calm down, Tony." Ziva smiled kindly at him. Evita sat on her hip, tugging at her hair.

"Yeah, but this is the rest of my life they're gonna decide, the rest of Eva's life. How can I be calm?"

"And I have told you that the only issue with your adoption of Evita might be your career. The risk involved in both of your jobs is something that could be picked up on, along with the frequent late hours. However, you are both coping well so far with juggling work and parenthood and the judge we have has a son in law enforcement and is very good with cases like these." April Jones, the attorney they had hired for Tony's adoption of Eva, smiled. She was in her late fifties and despite the pristine hair and stern face always came across warm and friendly. "You have a good family backing you, there are no conflicts or anybody protesting the procedure and your engagement only strengthens your case." She smiled. "You'll be fine."

"But what if…?"

"What if nothing. Besides, you are still Evita's father, no matter what happens today." Ziva played with her daughter's hand and pressed a kiss to her cheek as she started fussing. "Tony, do you have her teething ring?"

"Yep." He swung his NCIS backpack off of his back and opened the front pocket, pulling out a Ziploc back containing a brightly coloured teething ring. "Freshly cleaned." He presented it to Eva, grinning as she made a grab for it. "Ah, what do we say?" She made an indistinct gurgling sound. "Close enough for now." He handed the ring over and she immediately stuck it in her mouth, drool completely coating the surface within seconds.

"You'll be fine." April repeated as she smiled at the pair of them.

* * *

Tony stood by the fireplace with Eva dozing in his arms whilst his spoke with Jimmy, Ziva stood with the director and Abby discussing wedding plans, her attention frequently wandering over to her fiancé. McGee sat next to Ducky on the sofa, where he had been listening to one of the medical examiner's stories, and Gibbs sat in the armchair surveying the scene. "You know, Eva was my little girl before today. Today just makes it official." Tony said to the crowd in the small living room of the apartment. "I never really, seriously considered the idea of having a family. I never dreamed of being a dad when I was younger. It has over the past couple of years occurred to me that I'm not going to look 21 for much longer," the room filled with snorts and sniggers, which he blatantly ignored, "and although there have been times that I have, in passing, thought about settling down, I never seriously thought about it until almost a year ago. And in a microsecond, it was like someone flicked a switch, and I just…I wanted it. I wanted a family. Now, that just so happened to coincide with Ziva's pregnancy, and God knows how long I have wanted Ziva. I was wanting to be Cool Uncle Tony, just so I could be near you, be around you, and be a part of your scary, dysfunctional family. For some reason you decided I was worth enough for you to love me almost as much as I love you." He raised his glass towards her. "And I say almost enough because I know for a fact that nobody can love someone as much as I love you."

"And you say you are not getting mushy in your old age…" Ziva muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear and eliciting sniggers from all but Gibbs, who gave a small smile. She held his gaze, a soft smile touching her face, and gave a slight nod so he knew she knew he was serious, and that she took him so. McGee made some comment, one that made the rest of the room laugh and distracted them enough from her that she felt comfortable enough to walk over to him and press her lips lightly to his, simply and chastely. A blush rose in her cheeks when Abby squealed, even now not used to such openness with her emotions, even with her closest friends and family.

"Abs." There was a caution from Gibbs and she bowed her head slightly, murmuring a quiet apology.

"It is fine, really, Abby. There is no need to apologise." She shrugged. "We are family, all of us."

 **Fun fact, raspberry (the sound made by blowing air through one's lips) comes from raspberry tart, which is cockney rhyming slang for fart. My granddad used to give me 'lessons' in rhyming slang – his mum was from the East End, and she moved out to the countryside when she married.**


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**I have a slight confession to make. This chapter was a lot longer, over 3000 words, however, I struggled with the plot, and I did not know where I was going with it, but I liked some of the lines. So, I deleted over half of it, making a note of some of my favourite lines of course, but that means it is very short. Sorry.**

Chapter Nineteen

 **Thursday, June 19** **th** **2008**

"Hush, hush, Little One. I know it hurts." Ziva bounced Evita in her arms as she wailed, her cheeks flushed. "I know. I know." She pressed her lips to her six-month-old's forehead. The baby had her front bottom two incisors, white and tiny, and now her top two front incisors were breaking through.

"Straight from the fridge." Tony walked in, holding a blue teething ring. He handed it over when she reached out for it, her cries soon quelled into gentle coos as she chewed on the cooled blue object. He pressed a kiss to her nose, followed by a kiss to Ziva's cheek. There were dark circles under his fiancée's eyes and he brushed the pad of his thumb over one of them and sighed, resting his cheek on top of her head. "Would you like me to walk her round the block a couple of times so you can get some sleep?"

"No, it is fine. If I get tired I will borrow Abby's futon."

"Ziva." He sighed, exasperated. If her baby was awake, she simply refused to sleep. _Well, at least she's gotten past the point at which she refuses to sleep at all, just so she can watch Eva._

 _Yes, but this is hardly better._

 _She's a mother, DiNozzo. What do you expect?_

 _I expect for her to take care of herself._

 _No, DiNozzo. That's your job. It always has been. You have her six._

 _I guess you're right._

 _Of course I'm right. I'm you!_

"Tony." She replied in the same tone, not averting her eyes from her daughter.

"You need to sleep."

"I am fine." She protested and he sighed, knowing that there was no arguing with her when she was like that.

* * *

Ziva yawned, her head lolling to the side as she sat in her desk chair. Gibbs, the only person Ziva fully trusted Evita with other than Tony, was up with the infant in the Director's office, talking his way out of having to do something or other, using Evita as a bargaining chip of kinds and exploiting the director's soft-spot for the child. Tony walked over to her desk, crouching down before her and placing a hand on her knee, taking one of hers in the other. "Go down to Abby, Sweetheart. Please?" She nodded with another yawn, standing up and stretching. She pressed her lips to his softly, pulling back and placing her forehead on his as she stared sleepily into his eyes and played with his hairline with her fingertips before heading towards the elevator with another yawn.

"She okay?"

"She'll be fine McGee. Just needs to sleep. What with Eva's teething, she keeps waking up, which wakes us up. And if Eva is awake, so is Ziva." Tony ran a hand over his face as he sat down in his chair. "Ducky says the teeth will break through in a few more days and then she'll be back to sleeping through the night."

"And in a month or so you'll be back to waking up to a teething baby again, DiNozzo." Gibbs said, suddenly appearing behind them with Evita.

"Hey, Boss."

"Ziva gone downstairs?"

"Yep." He nodded, reaching out for Eva and sitting her on his lap when Gibbs handed her over.

* * *

"'Mmmmmma. 'Ma. Iiiiiimmma." Tony sat bolt upright, staring down at the child on his lap.

"What did you say?"

"Mmm…" Eva gurgled, proudly displaying her two teeth in a smile. "'Ma. Immmma."

He was up in a second, running towards the stairs with Evita in his arms and attracting strange looks from all of the agents he passed. He took the steps two at a time, making it down to Abby's lab in record time. "Ziva! Ziva wake up! Ziva!" He was already calling before he had reached the lab. "Ziva!"

"Where's the fire, Tony?" Abby asked, puzzled at his outburst and yet finding it hilarious.

"Ziva…" He gasped, his scarred lungs not used to the sudden expulsion of air, the exertion he did not even reserve for chasing bad guys. She blinked up at him, not overly happy her sleep had been disturbed.

"Tony, what…?"

He sat down in front of her, crossing his legs and sitting Eva in his lap. "Go on, say it again."

The child looked up at him and hummed, giggling, before turning to Ziva. "Mmmma. Immmmma. Imaaaa. Iiiima." She played with the sound, rolling it around in her mouth and combining it with giggles and coos. Ziva's eyes filled with tears as she looked at her daughter's toothy grin before looking back up at Tony, pride written across her face.

 **Only 5 more chapters left. Which means only 5 more chapters for me to write. Yay! At this point, late on 30** **th** **October 2016, I have four more chapters to start and 1 paragraph to write in the last chapter. And then I am done. Oh, wait, I still need to write my 49** **th** **NCIS fic. I have no idea what I am going to do for that… Oh, well. It will come to me. See, you have all probably read it already. I have not yet, because as I write this it has not been written.**


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Sorry to anyone who reviewed and usually expects a response, life has been hectic, to say the least.**

 **Does anyone else feel that the whole Jasper Shepard storyline was forgotten about?**

 **Anyway, this is another of my favourite chapters.**

Chapter Twenty

 ** _Friday, September 26_** ** _th_** ** _, 2008_**

A low growl rumbled through Tony's chest, vibrating against Ziva's cheek. Her head was positioned over his heart, her arm slung across his stomach lazily. Her bare leg was wrapped around one of his, her toes curling and uncurling as the blades of grass tickled the soles of her feet. "What?"

"That guy was staring at your legs." He grumbled, tilting his head back as his eyes followed the man down the path in the park.

"You stare at my legs all the time." She shrugged, her eyes fixed to her daughter's face as the little girl sat at their side, chewing the gangly arm of her soft stuffed monkey, her brown eyes wide.

"Well, they're very shapely legs and you _are_ my fiancée, therefore I think I have rights." The hand that was sat on her hip tightened its grip slightly, possessively.

"Oh, you do, do you?" She smirked. "You were the one who wanted me to wear this dress."

His gaze wandered down her body, smiling at the coral pink sundress that reached mid thigh. "I think it's nice. I just don't like the way the other men look at you."

"It has never bothered you before."

"It's always bothered me, Ziva." He sighed, tucking a strand of her loose hair away from her face.

She looked up at his serious expression, running the pad of her thumb along his cheekbone. Using her other arm she pushed herself up, positioning her body so it was covering half of his and moving the hand that had been on his cheek to the ground by his head, hovering over him. Her face, serious, moved slowly down so their lips met briefly. She burst out laughing as the arm that was around her back, hand on her hip, tightened and pulled her flush to his body, the arm that had been bracing her above him slipping.

" _DiNozzo! David!_ " Gibbs voice barked through their earpieces.

Ziva rolled her eyes, pressing her forehead to Tony's, nuzzling her nose against his. "Gibbs, you told us to act like a family. That is what we are doing."

" _You're also supposed to be on surveillance. Besides, the whole park does not want to see your…_ "

There was a pause and McGee broke in. " _PDA._ "

" _That one of those things that Kate had?_ "

" _No. Well, yeah, but it means public display of affection, too._ " McGee explained. " _And I agree with Gibbs._ "

"You only agree with Gibbs, Probie, 'cause you're not getting any." Tony muttered.

" _You're on thin ice, DiNozzo. Get back to work._ "

"You should not be so cruel to him, Tony."

 _"Thank you, Ziva."_

"I mean, he cannot help the fact that he is not getting any."

 _"Hey!"_

 _"Can you kids shut up? Evita is being better behaved than the three of you put together!"_

Ziva chuckled, rolling off of Tony and propping herself up on her elbow, staring at their daughter. "Hear that, Sweetheart? Grandpa Gibbs thinks you are well behaved."

"Well, it must be true then, because what Grandpa Gibbs says is always true, isn't it?" Tony grinned, picking the child up and holding her above him so her arms and legs flailed as she squealed with delight.

"Hmm, maybe Grandpa Gibbs should try getting you out of the bath then." She reached up and played with one of Eva's feet, clad in cherry-red tights that matched the buttons on the denim dress the little girl wore.

"Like Ima, like daughter. You spend ages in the bath as well."

"I usually get five minutes in the bath before you either join me or simply pick me up and carry me to bed!" Ziva scoffed. "And when you join me, I rarely get to _properly_ relax."

"I think what we do in the bath is very relaxing."

"I was talking about last week."

Tony cocked his head to the side and frowned. "Yeah, I don't know what went wrong with that…I mean, it all just seemed to go a bit…wrong."

 _"Oh, please?!"_ McGee cried. _"I don't want to hear about anything that goes on in your bath tub!"_

"What about the shower?"

 _"DiNozzo, the ice is cracking!"_

"Sorry Gibbs, we forgot you were there." Ziva rolled her eyes at Tony, who stuck his tongue out at her before pulling faces at Eva and making her cackle with laughter.

 _"Well, quit forgetting. Watkins' been spotted. McGee…"_

 _"I'm on it."_

 _"You two stay where you are."_ Gibbs commanded as Ziva reached for the picnic hamper containing their weapons. Of course, Tony had an ankle holster concealed under his jeans, and she had a drop leg holster hidden under her skirt, both housing their backups, whilst the basket contained their SIGs. Tony placed Evita on the ground between them and sat up himself, his hand idly going to the small of Ziva's back. He knew how much she hated missing out on things, but they both also knew that they would not have time to don the bulletproof vests in the hamper. Neither wanted to let the other go whilst they stayed with the child, either, both more willing to sacrifice themselves than see the other fall.

The radio silence was deafening as their hearts pounded in their chests and blood thundered through their ears. Their eyes were locked, their silent conversation undisturbed by the child's loud burbling. Ziva tangled her hand in her baby's short curls, needing the softness of her dark hair to soothe her along with the gentle movement of Tony's fingers on her back. The eternity they sat like that, neither tearing their eyes from one another and both waiting for Gibbs voice to crackle down the line asking for backup, felt like the longest either had struggled through, and the relief that flooded through them when Eva squealed and pointed at the silver haired man walking towards them could have been the best thing they had felt in years in that moment. Two small hands on Tony's leg made him look down as Evita tried to push herself up. He took her chubby fists, helping her to an unsteady standing position. Her eyes sparkled, her grin wide, as she looked over to where Gibbs was.

"Gibthy!" She pulled one of her hands away from Tony and pointed at her grandfather, her legs continually bouncing as they usually were when she was held up. Both parents stared intently as she looked to her feet before looking back to her goal. Shaking Tony off of her other hand, she wobbled slightly, and Ziva reached out, but the momentum of the wobble allowed nature to take over as she placed one foot in front of the other, managing four small steps in Gibbs direction before tumbling backwards in a fit of giggles. The family's cries of excitement filled the air, the tension from mere moments ago evaporating instantly.

* * *

"Eva the aeroplane's soaring for the sky now, and she's at the highest altitude possible, 'cause that's as high as Daddy can reach, and she's giving McGee a flyby, without permission, just like Maverick in Top Gun, and she spots Ima, and she's starting her descent…" Tony shouted as he ran around the expansive orange room, holding his daughter as he commentated on her route. "And she's coming towards the runway, and her legs are already going, preparing to land…" Her feet touched the carpet and she made the last three feet to her mother unaided, crashing into Ziva's chest and laughing. As if shocked by the impact, Ziva rolled backwards so she was lying on the floor in the middle of the bullpen, laughing with her daughter.

McGee watched on in awe as Tony collapsed beside them dramatically, flinging his arms out and making a joke. If it were any other time, with any other people, he would have asked them to keep the noise down, but the infectious smile that covered everyone's faces split across his, and he could not help but laugh at the poor joke that had to be explained to Ziva.

He had never been able to picture Tony as a father, or a husband, until Ziva had fallen pregnant, always seeing his older-brother-figure as the self-proclaimed playboy, but now McGee could see that he was nothing else. He was a father, a fiancé and a family man. He wondered briefly if Gibbs had resembled Tony as a father, but did not have to give it much consideration as the man himself walked through, scooping Evita up as he stepped over the family and blowing a raspberry on her bare arm, her shrieks and peals of laughter attracting no more attention than Tony had with his antics from minutes before hand. His suspicions of the resemblance were answered, confirmed beyond a doubt that Tony and Gibbs were swatches of the same cloth, if only it were not for DNA.

But what was DNA, really? For them, their family, it meant nothing. Not to any of them. His brother and sister lay on the floor, with his niece in his father's arms. His mother stood watching down on them from her balcony and his grandfather sat with his oddball cousin in the clinical-feeling subbasement. And down in the basement worked Abby, his best friend, his sister, his once-something-more-but-not-anymore, tirelessly processing evidence, cracking cases and twirling about to music that could hardly be considered good for dancing to.

And yet, the only ones to share DNA were Ziva and her baby. The rest only had each other in common.

And they were happy.

Happier than he had ever been around his own DNA.

 **I love this chapter. I do not know why, but it was easy to write and it feels, I do not know, like a warm fire that you can curl up by with a bowl of homemade tomato soup and a mug of hot chocolate, wrapped in a blanket whilst a similar white one lays itself down outside, distorting the silhouettes of everything to be touched by the icy flakes. I wish we had snow right now. We have not had snow in nearly five years (except for about three flakes over a year ago that within half a second melted to rain and did not settle) and I really, really miss it. I travelled to Iceland a good few years ago now, with knee-deep snow, and I would give anything to go back there right now and have a snowball fight and to build a snowman.**

 **I have no clue whatsoever why I have just spent 90 words talking about snow.**


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

**You know what really annoys me? When the temperature is correct for snow, but there is no snow! It is not fair!**

 **I know the White Christmas that DC had was in '09, but I really would like to use my artistic licence again, because I love snow. Or at least I do for the first half an hour. Then it goes all grey and slushy and messy and it is just cold.**

 **I do not like this chapter.**

Chapter Twenty-One

 ** _Wednesday, December 24_** ** _th_** ** _2008_**

"Dada. Ima. Dada. Ima. Dada. Ima. Dada. Ima." Evita's voice filtered through into their bedroom, waking both Tony and Ziva up.

Tony looked at the clock, rubbing his bleary eyes. "A year ago, we were just arriving at the hospital." He pressed a kiss to her cheek and wrapped his arms around her.

"Mmhm." She melded into his body, rolling over to face him. "I will go and get her." She pecked him on the lips before squirming from his grasp. Before she left she pulled one of Tony's OSU t-shirts over her naked torso. _"Hello, Baby. Are you awake already?"_ Her voice crackled through the baby monitor and Tony smiled, closing his eyes and listening to mother and daughter as they chattered away. _"Shall we go and see Daddy? Yes?"_ Their voices started to drift away from the monitor and grew in volume as they walked down the hall.

"Hey, there're my two girls." Tony beamed, sitting up. He reached his arms out, pulling faces when Eva was passed over to him. "Who's my big Eva? You are. You're my big Eva. You're a big girl today."

"She is still Ima's little baby." Ziva sat next to him, curling her feet up beneath her and playing with her daughter's hand.

"Of course she is, and she always will be." Tony nodded as he supported Eva, keeping her steady as she wobbled, her feet unstable on the duvet that covered his legs. The child stared at him as he pulled funny faces at her, laughing at some and pawing at others with a chubby hand. The other hand had been yanked away from her mother and stuck in her mouth, coating her small fist in saliva. When Tony stuck his tongue out she grabbed it, a move she had witnessed Ziva doing on the odd occasion. "Like mother, like daughter, hey?" He mumbled, his tongue still being pinched.

Ziva watched as they interacted, their laughs filling the small bedroom as Evita slapped a sloppy kiss on Tony's cheek and he retaliated by blowing a raspberry on hers. She squealed and bounced, tumbling backwards to sit down. A look of shock passed over her face at the soft yet sudden landing and she looked around the room. Something caught her eye out of the window and she pointed, cooing. "What is it, Baby?" Ziva asked, wiping a dribble of slobber from the child's chin in the process.

Eva placed her hands on the bed and leant on them, twisting her torso to face the window and trying to stand up on the soft surface. "Ima. Ima."

She craned her neck to see what was outside that fascinated the child so much, a grin suddenly lighting up her face. "What?" Tony asked, the window out of his view due to the heavy curtains that hung in his line of sight, as his daughter was removed from his arms and carried over to the window. He watched as the child reached out and pressed her hand against the cold glass, retracting it quickly.

"Snow, Tony."

He simply groaned, falling back against the pillows. "You know what problems snow caused us last year."

"She has never properly seen snow, Tony. Not consciously." Ziva grinned out at the snow on the street before running out of the room, her daughter sat on her hip.

* * *

"Remind me again why she has a snow suit? Particularly a black and red one?" Tony stared down at his little girl, who hesitantly stood in the snow, reaching her hand out to touch a snowflake as it fell.

"Abby thought it would be a good early birthday present, considering the weather over the past few days."

"Any reason it had to be black and red?"

"Abby." Ziva shrugged, watching as Evita scooped a mitten full of the cold, white substance up and threw it, completely awestruck by the sudden flurry of flakes that tumbled down around her.

"Fair point." Tony agreed, walking over to her mini and brushing a chunk of snow off. He then crouched down for a moment before turning back to face her, a wicked grin plastered across his mouth. Before she had a chance to react, a snowball – cold and wet – hit her in the middle of the face and she squealed, a noise he never thought he would hear from his ninja. She bent down and made her own frozen projectile, flinging it at him with perfect aim, smiling proudly when he ducked just before it hit his chest, hitting him in the face instead.

Evita's attention was pulled from her new favourite toy when she watched her parents running around the street pelting balls of snow at one another. The blanket came up to her knees, and as she tried to move towards them her foot caught the top of the layer of snow and she tumbled backwards, falling on her backside into the cushioned layer of frozen rain. Ziva looked up and hurried over, sighing when her child started laughing. "Hey, I have a great idea!"

"And what would that be, Tony?" She asked as she righted her baby girl.

"Let's build a snowman."

"A snow…man?"

"Please tell me you have built a snowman before." At the look on her face he groaned. "You have missed out on so much! It's a man. Built from snow. You use a carrot for the nose and two lumps of coal for the eyes. Really, it's standard winter stuff."

* * *

The family crowded around the circular table, the biggest the restaurant had to offer, creating a bit of a tight squeeze with the highchair along with the eight adults surrounding the six-seated table. It being Christmas Eve, it was the only restaurant in the area that had a table free. Laughter erupted around the table at one of Tony's jokes. As the noise quietened down, Ziva looked around noticing a few heads turned their way. They were, admittedly, quite an oddball group. A silver haired fox and his redheaded companion, a young(-ish) couple and their child who looked like only one of them, a Goth and her computer geek, an old Scottish doctor with a bowtie and his young, spectacled apprentice. To look closer, one would notice that five of the nine people around the table were armed.

The table closest to them contained two couples, one older, one younger, and Ziva spotted a baby seat on the end chair. "Are we being too loud?"

"No, you're fine." The older of the two women smiled. "Your daughter is beautiful."

"Thank you." Ziva blushed, brushing the curls of Evita's hair away from her eyes.

"She's one today." Tony boasted proudly, puffing his chest out slightly.

"Her eyes are lovely." The younger of the women said in a quiet voice. She seemed to be a lot shier than the older woman, although the resemblance was clear. Both had quiet smiles and similar facial shapes. Ziva craned her neck as discretely as she could, yet it was still obvious to what she was looking at. "Toby. He's four weeks old."

Ziva blushed at being caught. "Sorry, I…"

"It's fine. Beth." The young woman, the closest to Ziva, held her hand out. "My parents and my husband." She nodded to the others at the table.

"Ziva. This is my…" She hesitated, looking around the circular table and smiled. "This is my family." There was a chorus of 'hi's 'hello's as her gaze returned back to the small child. "It feels like only five minutes since she was that size."

"Do you miss it?"

Ziva sighed and turned to her daughter, sat in the highchair between her and Tony. "Do I miss you being that small, Sweetheart? Sometimes, I think. But I like seeing the changes that I see every day." Evita gurgled and waved her tippy-cup around. The waiter appeared and each table turned back to their own conversations.

"And what for the child?"

"She'll be happy to eat the vegetables from our meals if we can just have another plate."

"That's fine, Sir." The waiter nodded, adding a note to the bottom of his notepad and turning to leave them.

"Hold on a minute, is it possible for you to get a picture of us all before the food?" Abby asked, holding out her silver point-and-shoot and grinning.

"Sure." He accepted the camera and stood back slightly, waving to Palmer to move in slightly before hitting the shutter button.

"Thanks!" The goth grinned and turned back to the table.

The conversation resumed, its prior vigour still present, and yet one voice was not heard as frequently as it had been before. Tony, Gibbs and Abby all noticed Ziva's attention focused mainly on her daughter, smiling and pulling faces, whilst a small portion of her mind clearly not at their table at all. Her gaze would flick over to the table behind them, the occasional glimpse of a mittened hand, or a blue bootie. Her attention returned when their food arrived, focused mainly on helping her daughter eat a piece of carrot, softened through boiling, whilst picking at her own meal. Once dinner was finished, and Eva had a face covered in vegetables, Tony ruffled her curly dark hair. "Shall we get you cleaned up?" His eyes flicked over to see Ziva turning her head back to the table.

"I will go." She smiled.

"Let me. You cleaned her after breakfast." He shrugged, unclipping the child from the highchair and taking Ziva's bag, heading in the direction of the bathrooms. Without her daughter to maintain her focus, her mind drifted to the table next to theirs again.

"Do you want to hold him?" Beth asked, catching Ziva looking again.

"Oh, I…"

"She wants to hold him." Beth's mother said, carefully picking her grandchild up and handing him to her daughter. Beth grinned proudly and passed him to Ziva, watching as the other woman smiled softly.

"Hello there. Hi. You are so tiny." Conversation resumed quietly around Ziva, along with laughter, as they each watched their friend coo over the small child in her arms.

When Tony walked back through, Evita's face now mostly cleaned, he sighed at the sight of Ziva with the baby, although he could not help but keep a small grin off of his face when he saw her smile. He knew what she wanted. "Thanks, I think you've just got my fiancée pregnant." He joked across to the other table whilst sitting Eva back in her highchair.

Ziva rolled her eyes and handed Toby back. "Thank you." She said sincerely before turning to kissing her daughter's now clean cheek and brushing her dark curls out of her warm brown eyes.

* * *

Tony sighed as Ziva rolled into his arms. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Somehow I don't believe you." Tony chuckled, pressing his lips to her hairline and skimming his fingers across her bare stomach. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I-"

"Don't give me that, Ziva. What is it?" She tucked her head under his chin and turned her face into his chest. "You want another baby, don't you?"

"I…" She hesitated. _You saw the way he reacted when he found the pregnancy test the other month, and his sarcasm at dinner this evening, he does not want another baby._

 _Well, the test the other month was a bit of a shock, and he is Tony, sarcasm is his first language._

 _Yeah, but he practically had a heart attack, that is not how someone who wants a baby should react._

"You want another baby." She pulled away, staring at his smile.

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to. I know you, Ziva. I saw the way you looked at the baby today." He watched as she looked down, fiddling with her fingers. "It's okay, you know."

"No, it is not. It is not something I should be wanting. I have you and I have Evita and that is enough. I should not want more."

"But you do. And it's fine that you do." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trailing his fingertips down her jaw and putting a slight pressure on her chin and tilting it up to face him.

"No, no it is not, because you are happy, and that is what matters." She forced a smile and settled back down beside him as he rolled his eyes.

"You don't get it, do you? I'd do anything for you, Ziva. I'd give you as many babies as you want. We could have ten thousand babies if that is what you want." At the horror on her face, he smirked. "Or we could stick to two."

"I always wanted two. One of each." She said softly, kissing the corner of his mouth before settling her head on his chest. "I am tired."

"Okay." He said softly, dropping a kiss to the crown of her head and laying his head back, letting his arms wrap around her as he felt her breathing slow. "I love you."

 **I do not know if I actually like this or not. I think I am indifferent.**


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Okay, so I have literally just deleted half of this and rewritten it. Like, I finished five minutes ago, which is why I am later that usual with it.**

 **This was a tricky one to write. I simply could not find the words that I wanted.**

 **Are we sitting company? Then we shall begin.**

Chapter Twenty-Two 

**_Monday, January 12_** ** _th_** ** _2009_**

"Do you like it, Sweetie?" Abby cooed, watching Evita bounce on her feet, the ivory lace dress pooling on the wooden floor. The dark-haired child stared at her aunt, grinning a grin that, although was not inherited from him, oozed DiNozzoishness. She squealed slightly, loosing her balance before propelling herself towards Abby, wrapping her arms around Abby's fluorescent pink and black stripy tights.

She cackled as Abby picked her up, balancing her on her hip. "Ima?"

"Ima's trying a dress on, we need to be patient."

"Why?"

"Because Ima needs a dress for the wedding. That is why you need a dress too."

"And you, Abby. Do not forget your dress." Ziva said, stepping through the door to the changing room and causing Abby to groan before she looked at the dress.

She tapped Evita's shoulder, pointing over to Ziva. "Ima!"

"Tony will love it. I love it."

"Really? You do not think it is too tight?" She stood slightly straighter, frowning in the mirror as she smoothed wrinkles out of the cream lace, slightly lighter than the colour of the dress her daughter was wearing. It hugged her torso, capped sleeves of lace dropping to a v-shaped neckline, the bodice of the dress then fitted until just below her hips, at which point it loosened, falling out into the gentle folds of lace.

"Ziva, it is amazing. I mean, you might want to make certain that you can take it off quickly without damaging it, because Tony really isn't going to care, and you don't want him to rip it in his haste to get you out of it, but other than that it is perfect."

She turned around, studying it from another angle, revealing a length of cream buttons made from the same lace as the rest of the dress running from the nape of her neck all the way down to the small of her back. "I like it." She murmured quietly before turning to look their way. "What do you think, Evita?" Abby placed the child down and she toddled over, reaching out her arms as her mother picked her up. "I like this dress." She tapped the lace that sat slightly loose on her daughter's body. "Did Auntie Abby pick this out for you?"

Evita nodded, grinning. "We were just trying some on, and she liked that one." Abby shrugged as one of the assistants walked over. "The one she is wearing also has some growing room, and it would be possible for a seamstress to adjust it slightly."

She looked back in the mirror, her daughter on her hip as she studied them together. "They match."

"Actually, they are from different collections, but they really do go well together." The assistant smiled, looking towards Abby. "Now just for the bridesmaid's dress."

"Oh, I…Ziva, do I have to?"

"Yes, Abby. You are forcing me into a dress, so I shall force you into a dress. Trust me, if I had my way, I would marry Tony wearing my cargo pants and combat boots."

Abby smirked. " _Only_ your pants and boots? Nothing more than that? 'Cause I am certain that if you suggest that then Tony will go for it."

"I would wear a jumper as well."

"Underwear?"

"He likes it when I do not wear a bra – besides, it is more comfortable." Ziva shrugged, looking at her reflection once more.

The blonde assistant cleared her throat and both Ziva and Abby remembered they had other company. "Um, are you thinking of having all of the dresses similar in style or material, or are you wanting them all to be unique?"

"I think keeping them all similar but not the same."

"Okay, we can work with that. Are there any particular styles that you would prefer?"

"I am fine with whatever Abby wants, but I think keeping the lace theme would be nice." Ziva nodded to Abby.

"Something short. I mean, not too short, but-" She looked down at the plaid skirt she wore, no longer than mid thigh. "Definitely longer than this."

"Okay, I'm sure we can find something." She walked over to one rack of dresses, skimming her fingers along hangers until she found the one she wanted. "I'm not certain how this will work with the other two, but it's worth a try." She lead Abby to the changing rooms, a dress bag draped over one arm.

"Are you excited, my little one?" Ziva asked, stroking the child's cheek with the side of her index finger. Evita stared at her, wide-eyed, before nodding, and Ziva was certain she did not fully comprehend what she was agreeing to. "How are we going to do your hair? I think we shall leave it down. I think that will be nice. Your lovely curls. You know, your hair reminds me of your Aunt Tali. She had hair like yours, just slightly darker than mine. I used to sit and braid it before we went to bed every night. Maybe when it is longer I will braid yours, too." She pressed a kiss to the toddler's cheek before burying her face into her daughter's short curls, trying to hide the moisture that spilled down her cheeks. "She would have loved you. She always said she envied me for being older, because I got to have a baby sister, and she did not." She was broken from her reverie when Abby emerged, a cream bodice of silk overlaid with white lace, and a tulle skirt, a slightly darker ribbon sash separating top from bottom and tying the whole dress together. The skirt fell in layers of uneven strips, the shortest coming to mid thigh, the longest falling just below the knee.

"So, what do you think?" She twirled, holding one arm up. Whilst still retaining what was most Abby about her, the black ink of tattoos on pale skin, black hair tied into pigtails, the dress made her look a lot younger, her face that of a teenager more than of a woman in her early thirties.

"You look beautiful, Abby." Ziva said in a motherly tone as the older woman ran over.

"But you are the one who should be looking beautiful, not me." Abby sighed. "Don't you think it's too different?"

"No, I think it suits you. And I doubt Jenny will wear anything like what any of us are wearing anyway, so I do not think it matters."

"Yeah, but…"

"Abby, do you like it? Forget what I am wearing, forget Evita, forget the wedding, everything. Do you like it?"

She looked down at herself, turning and watching the tulle float out on the air. "Yes." She breathed softly.

"So do I. And, it works with your tattoos. They do not look out of place with it."

"You think?"

"I do."

"Well, all we have to think about then is shoes."

* * *

"How'd it go?" Tony asked, giving Ziva a kiss before taking Eva from her as they entered the kitchen where he had been eating a bowl of cereal.

"Surprisingly easy. Abby was Abby. We got all three dresses sorted."

"Well, that's good." He smiled, turning to their daughter. "Did you and Ima find some nice dresses?" She nodded and yawned, placing her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger and smiled. "Hey, Sleepyhead, it's only 1400hrs, you can't sleep yet."

"She has had a long day, I think she deserves a nap."

"Does that mean I deserve a nap, too?"

"Well, you have not had to go through rails and rails of dresses today, have you?" She challenged as she walked through to the living room, standing before the movie collection. "We can even watch a film whilst she sleeps."

"Film." Evita murmured, snuggling her face into Tony's neck as he chuckled.

"I thought you were sleepy?"

"No." She shook her head through another yawn.

"Baby, you need a nap." Ziva sighed.

"No." Her small voice was more stubborn this time.

"Just like her Ima. Stubborn as a bull." She stuck her tongue out at him as he grinned. "So, what are we watching?"

"The Wizard of Oz. It has been a while since we last watched it, and it is child friendly." They slipped straight into their movie-watching routine, Tony arranging the couch into a comfortable cocoon of cushions, blankets and Eva's soft toy monkey whilst Ziva fed the DVD to the reader and prepared a bowl of sliced apple and carrot sticks.

When she brought the fruit and vegetables through, Tony wrinkled his nose. "I'd still rather popcorn."

"Well, I would rather that I maintained my dress-size and kept all of my teeth." She muttered sarcastically, setting the bowl on the table and sitting down, Evita between them.

"We could have salty popcorn."

"Oh, I forgot to say that I would rather not die of a heart attack due to a high blood pressure." She smiled sweetly at him. "And all of the above statements apply to Evita too."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as the film started. At least, that was until Tony turned to look at their daughter. "Five bucks she'll be out as soon as we first see the Munchkins."

Ziva looked down too, studying her baby's face. "I do not think she will make it through the opening credits."

"Okay, deal."

* * *

"Gah, come here little Munchkin!" Tony called out, a crazed look in his eyes as he chased Evita around the living room.

"Just because she won the bet for you, it does not mean you get to give her nicknames."

"Well, it's fitting."

"How?" Ziva's scepticism was evident in her voice even as she watched on with a smirk from where she stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Well, she's short." He shrugged, pausing for a moment as he allowed Eva to get away from him. "Another trait she gets from you."

"Hey! I am not that short. Besides, she is one, Tony – she has only had twelve months to reach the height that she is now."

Tony whirled around, catching the toddler as she made her way past him and picking her up, turning her in the air. "Hear that, Munchkin? Ima think's you're still gonna grow. I think you're fine as you are. Do you think you're fine as you are?" There was a pause as the little girl contemplated the question before she nodded whilst chewing on her fingers. "See, Ziva, she's a Munchkin."

"Munthkin!"

She sighed and walked over, masking the humour that covered her face with disappointment. "I thought you would be on my side, Baby. Not Daddy's."

"Why _wouldn't_ she be on my side? My side's the best." He puffed his chest out. "Isn't Daddy's side the best?"

A mischievous grin crossed their daughter's face and Ziva chuckled with a shake of her head. "If you even think about agreeing with Daddy, there will be no more films for a month."

Tony's jaw dropped as he watched Ziva press a kiss to their baby's cheek. "Hey, you can't bribe her like that!"

"Of course I can. She is my little girl." She shrugged with a wink before allowing her lips to brush against his.

"Mine too." He mumbled, applying a slight pressure to the kiss, pulling away abruptly as Eva squirmed in his arms. "Down?"

"Mhmm." She nodded, wriggling out of his arms and toddling over to where she had dropped her gangly monkey toy, picking him up and chewing on one of the arms.

"Now, where were we?"

* * *

"Please?" It was whined in her ear, an irritating fly that had been buzzing around her head all evening, ever since they had settled Evita down to sleep. His fingers skimmed their way down the side of her bare torso, lingering and fluttering across her curves.

"No."

"It's tight. Satin. Clinches just here," she jerks away as he tickles her waist.

"No."

"It's soft and light and floats across here," fingertips dance tantalizingly above her breasts, skipping back up to brush across her collarbone, "and it hangs from here like the wings of a butterfly."

"No."

"Aw, am I close?"

"I am not going to tell you. You shall have to wait and see." She rolled from where she lay on her side, back to him, so she was facing the ceiling, tilting her head slightly to glare at him. "It is bad luck."

"Okay, can you at least tell me if it's white?"

"No." She shifted her gaze back to the ceiling, hints of a smile touching her lips as his warm fingers continued to dance across her cold skin.

"Is that a no to the dress being white, or to my question?" She maintained her silence as his impatience increased and his hand's exploration of her torso was aided by his mouth as he pressed kisses up and down her neck. She moaned quietly, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes in a vain attempt to block him out. "You can't ignore me, Zee-vah." His words were breathed into her ear and she shivered.

"I am not going to tell you about the dress, Tony. It is a secret."

"And there's really nothing I can do to change your mind?" It was a plea, he was begging her. "Ziva…" Having no other way of shutting him up, she rolled over and straddled him, sealing her lips over his and relishing in the silence that the kiss flooded the room with. She loved him, she really did, but he had no grasp on the meaning of the word 'no'. He broke away, nuzzling his nose against hers as he regained his breath. "What's the underwear like?"

 **It has been so long since I have watched the Wizard of Oz. I need to watch it again at some point. But then, that goes for many films.**

 **These last couple of chapters were tricky to write and have been rewritten over and over. And over again. I still need to work on a couple of sections of the last two chapters.**

 **Anyway, until the next time.**


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

**We have almost done it! We have almost gotten through the whole thing! This is the penultimate chapter! Hurray! Three cheers! Anyway, I love this chapter. Not the writing, but the idea. Oh, and I was really panicked that I would have to have two days in one chapter here, but I figured it out.**

 **So, to the important stuff: Michael Weatherly and Bull. I watched the first episode the other day and I could not help but compare it to NCIS. Yes, there were a couple of funny bits, but it just did not capture my interest. I could not stop seeing him as Tony (the glasses helped a little, but not much) and although it was not like I was super excited to watch it and I had not even planned upon watching it until I accidentally changed channel and it was just about to start, I was disappointed. I think one of my problems is that it seemed too technologically up-to-date and modern (yes, I do know it is the 21** **st** **century, I do know the date, it does not mean I have to like it) and I am simply not. I struggle to work my own phone, I have difficulties working technologies that are ten years old, I am almost as technically illiterate as Gibbs (not exaggerating on that one), and that is why I like NCIS – on Bull there was a lot focused on social media, with NCIS Gibbs complained whenever that happened.**

 **I am starting to lose faith in the television being produced recently. The few British series that I keep track of seem to be going down hill (not just because of the technology) and I am finding myself watching more and more episodes from earlier series and seasons and nothing from the later ones. Maybe it is just that the series themselves are wearing out, or maybe it is that the writing and acting has decreased in quality, or maybe I am just bored. Either way, I think I am going to be ending up not watching TV at all at this rate.**

 **Sorry, that was a lot of rambling about something that has nothing to do with the fiction or NCIS (well, it is loosely connected to NCIS, but only through an actor).**

Chapter Twenty-Three

 ** _Monday, June 1_** ** _st_** ** _2009_**

"Commander, can you tell us why the ensign might have taken his own life?"

"Maybe he was unhappy." Came the unhelpful response of the Commander sat before her and Ziva groaned, rolling her neck and cracking her knuckles as she sat at the metal table of the mess hall.

"You were the last person he spoke to. Did he seem unhappy?"

"Well, I…"

"Before you think of giving her some BS answer, can I remind you that tomorrow's her wedding day and she is on an aircraft carrier 100 miles from the venue?"

"You've already said." The unhelpful Commander muttered sarcastically.

"Yeah, well, maybe you'd like me to tell you that her young daughter is waiting at home with friends because she and her fiancé have to be here questioning you. They both want to go home and see their daughter and get married and I want them to stop moping so I really, really advise you tell us the truth this time. An angry ex-assassin is not someone you want to get on the bad side of, and she's an angry ex-assassin." Gibbs growled as his phone shrilled. He sighed and flipped it open. "Abby."

Ziva nodded as he walked to the other side of the hall before turning back to Commander Graves. "Now, where were we?"

* * *

"Abby, slow down. What's wrong?" Gibbs halted the ramblings coming through the phone, suffering from bad reception in the iron rooms.

"I picked Tony and Ziva's phone up when it rang earlier, and there was a woman on it and she said there had been a fire and half the building had burnt down and the hall was ruined. All the decorations and everything. And she said they would have to either cancel or postpone. Gibbs, they're gonna be devastated. This is their wedding and now they have nowhere to have it. Not to mention the fact that they're on a boat in the middle of the ocean and it's all going wrong."

"Calm down, Abby. Calm down."

"But Gibbs! It's a disaster!" He sighed and paused for a moment. "You're thinking something, aren't you?"

"I think I have an idea. Get the dresses and suits ready and gather everyone at NCIS. Tell Ducky to get my dress blues from the closet in my basement. Everyone needs to be in the lobby of NCIS in an hour. Oh, and Abby, it is a ship, not a boat." He hung the phone up and walked over to Ziva, just as the Commander broke down into sobs. He hoped he was not going to have two agents doing that in a minute. "What did you say to him?"

Ziva hesitated, a sly grin appearing on her face. "I…I do not think you want to know that. But, he confessed. The ensign was killed because he had been sleeping with Commander Graves' seventeen-year-old daughter before he was deployed. Graves found the love letters the ensign had received and snapped." Gibbs nodded and rubbed a hand over his grey hair. "What is it?"

"Can we talk? With DiNozzo?"

"He is still going through surveillance footage." She said as she left the room with him, flashing Stan Burley a grin when he appeared outside the door.

"He confessed. He's all yours now." Gibbs nodded. "You know, I thought I taught you better than this."

"Hey, I just asked for some help, it was a messy one, and I am really, truly grateful for your help on this one, Boss."

"Yeah, well, maybe you'll have a chance to repay me later." Gibbs grumbled, attracting frowns from both agents. He murmured something in Stan's ear and Ziva studied both men's faces as they conferred.

"I'll see what I can do, Boss."

"Good. Come on. I need to talk to you and DiNozzo. Now."

"Gibbs, if this is about you backing out of walking me down the aisle tomorrow because you have to dress formally, I really…" It had been a constant joke since the engagement was announced that Gibbs would be walking her down the aisle.

"Ziva, this isn't a joke."

"If you are serious about not wanting to wear a tux, I do not mind. You can wear jeans and a t-shirt if you want. We just want you there." Ziva said seriously as they stopped outside the door they needed.

"It's not about that." He said, pushing through. "DiNozzo, we got him. You can stop watching those now."

"Thank God. They are so, so dull." He spun on the desk chair to face them, taking in the serious expressions.

"You might want to sit down." Gibbs sighed as Ziva stood her ground. "Ziva. Sit." She obeyed and he tried to figure out whether he should let them down slowly or rip the news off like a bandage. "I got a call from Abby. There's been a fire."

Ziva's heart stopped. "Evita." The name was a whisper, no more than an exhalation tumbling from her lips as she collapsed backwards into the chair. Tony was muttering a string of 'no's, shaking his head and staring up at their boss.

Gibbs shook his head. "Evita's fine, they all are. The fire was at the hotel for tomorrow." Both parents heaved a sigh of relief and Ziva had to cover her mouth to muffle a sob. "Evita's fine." He placed a reassuring hand on Ziva's shoulder. "I should've been more careful." He waited whilst they calmed themselves and each other down.

Tony looked to Gibbs once they had recovered. "Wait, what does that mean for the wedding?"

The older man shook his head. "You can't have it there. You have to either cancel or postpone."

"We have the honeymoon booked and everything." Tony ran a hand over his face.

"Well, at least we have nobody but people from the area coming." Ziva shrugged, squeezing Tony's hand. "I mean, the only people coming who do not work at NCIS are Sarah and Fornell, and they have not had to travel at all."

"I guess you're right. It's just, y'know, a disappointment. I was so excited, and so was Eva, and…"

"I have a plan." Gibbs said as Tony trailed off. The couple looked up at him, eyebrows raised and expectant of an answer. "We have clear skies, good weather. We have a chaplain on board. Stan's pulling some strings now if you really want the wedding now. I can get everyone here on a helo. Well, not everyone, but Evita, McGee, Abby, Ducky, Palmer, Jenny, Fornell and Sarah. Everyone you need. Abby's sorting everything else out back home. What do you say?"

"Well Sweetcheeks? How about it? You still want to marry me?"

* * *

Ziva stood on the flight deck as she watched the two helicopters approach, Gibbs by her side. "Thank you, Gibbs." She said, slightly louder than normal.

"For what?"

"Everything." She pressed a kiss to his cheek before they turned to watch the first chopper land. Abby stepped down first, a squealing Evita bouncing on her hip. She ran over, the earmuffs that adorned the pair of them making it quite a sight. She handed Evita to Ziva, the little girl grinning.

"SHE LOVED THAT!" Abby shouted.

"Did you, Baby? Did you like the helicopter ride?" Ziva smiled, hugging her child close. "I have missed you, Little One." Abby had run back to help Ducky and the Director with dress bags. Once they were clear the helo took off and the second landed, allowing for McGee and his sister, accompanied by Fornell and Palmer, to disembark with backpacks and other hand luggage. The troops made their way indoors, sharing the loads, as they wound their way through metal corridors. Earmuffs were shed on the way and conversation of the upcoming ceremony rose in volume. "The crew have been kind enough to allocate us five cabins along the same corridor, two bunks in each, I am guessing you are all old enough to sort your own room allocations out?" She said, knocking on a door and putting on a sickly sweet voice as she called through the metal. "Honey, the family has arrived."

Tony flung the door open, only to have it slammed in his face by Abby whose glare was fixed on Ziva. "He can't see you!"

"Abby, we have been working together all morning. It is a bit late now to tell us that we cannot see one another."

"Well, we have to deal with what we've got."

"And with that I am guessing it is time we start getting ready. Sunset is in two hours. We need to be ready before then." Ziva ordered, moving two doors down and entering the cabin identical to the one she had stayed in with Tony the night before, ushering in the three other women.

* * *

"Ziva, I forgot the shoes!" Abby cried as she riffled through her bag. "Both your's and mine!"

Ziva shook her head. "No. I like the ones you are wearing." All four women looked down at the tatty leather lace-ups that she wore. They were old and faded and so comfortable that Abby hated to throw them out, even though there was at least one hole in the sole of the left boot. They were the boots she liked to travel in – easy to slip on and off at security, not so tight that they grow uncomfortable after long periods and so old and soft that they had lost their ability to cause blisters.

"These?" Abby raised her eyebrows. "Ziva, I can't go to a wedding in these."

"Of course you can. It is my wedding and I say you are wearing those boots."

"But, they have no heel, and the laces are falling to pieces. Ziva, these belonged to my father."

"And I want you to wear them to my wedding. Besides, I am going to wear my boots." She shrugged, hiking up her skirt to reveal the black combat boots. "We are on an aircraft carrier, Abby. Heels are completely inconvenient and inappropriate." She said, taking a deep breath and bringing the back of her hand up to her mouth, closing her eyes and gripping the edge of the bunk beside her.

"Ziva? You okay?"

She opened her eyes to the three concerned gazes and gave a weak smile. "It is just a combination of nerves and motion sickness. I am fine. Jen, can you do my hair please?"

"Sure." The director handed Eva, who had been happily sat on her lap, over to Sarah, who started pulling funny faces at the child. She guided the young woman over to the chair by the built-in desk and brushed Ziva's hair through before nimbly braiding it into an intricate yet steadfast bun. "I did you hair for you like this for that undercover op in Cairo." She said quietly as she worked. "The night you saved my life. You were so young then. Too young."

"We were all too young, Jen. There was nothing any of us could have done." Ziva sighed.

She felt Jenny's hands still and a breath behind her ear. "Ziva, you don't get motion sick."

"Maybe I have been spending too much time around McGee." She muttered sarcastically back, just as quietly.

"There something you're not telling us? We all saw the way you were on Eva's birthday."

"Jen, if I am, then I do not even know yet. Please keep this to yourself."

"My lips are sealed." She whispered before returning to Ziva's dark hair.

* * *

"Ready?" Abby asked, entering the cabin. Jenny and Sarah were checking with the men on how everything was progressing and they had left Ziva alone for a bit with Evita. The child was sat on the bottom bunk next to the carry-on sized suitcase that her mother was rummaging through.

"Hmm?"

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, I was just…looking for something." Ziva stood up, flipping the lid down and facing Abby.

"What was it? Maybe I could help."

"Nothing. I was just checking I had put something in. Clearly I did not." She gave a false smile.

"In the suitcase you told me I was certainly not to look into under any circumstance even if threatened by mad gunmen?"

"Mhmm. Honeymoon stuff." She shrugged.

"Right, well, that can wait for tomorrow. Tonight even. Not now." Abby watched as Ziva nodded slowly, smirking to herself as she walked over to her coffin shaped backpack. She pulled out a box and held it in the air. "This wouldn't be what you were looking for by any chance would it? You left it in the drawer of your bedside table. I found it when I was getting the rings." She walked over and embraced her blushing friend. "Later. Everyone's waiting." She pressed a kiss to her cheek and walked over to pick Evita up. "Oh, just one thing though: try not to puke on anyone. Morning sickness, motion sickness or otherwise, it makes for horrible photos." Abby grinned.

* * *

Gibbs smiled as Ziva walked along the metal corridor, Evita on her hip. "You look beautiful, both of you." She chuckled quietly and looked down, allowing a small blush to tint her cheeks. She placed the child on the floor, giving a look that her daughter knew to mean 'moving is not a wise idea at the moment', and was suddenly enveloped in a rare, gentle hug. Stunned momentarily, it took a second before she returned the gesture.

"Thank you."

"Y'know, after Kelly, I never thought…"

Ziva sniffed and gulped, feeling the tremendous weight being placed on her shoulders along with the honour. "I know." She nodded and kissed his cheek before pulling away. A single tear trickled over his cheekbone and she smiled softly, brushing it away with the side of her thumb. "Hey, I thought we said no crying today."

He laughed, tapping the back of her head. "I wish you could have met each other. She'd have looked up to you."

She rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes and cherishing the quite moment. "I am sorry, Gibbs."

"What for?"

"It should not be me that you walk down the aisle."

"Of course it should be. When Evita is older, will Tony be the one to walk her down the aisle?"

"I should hope so. He is her father."

"Exactly. I may not be your father, Ziva, but you and Abby are the closest things I have to living daughters." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Gibbs, am I, have I…are you disappointed in me?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" He looked down at her, chuckling.

"Well, I am not the agent you thought I was, and I hardly think you could approve of my choice of husband…"

"He might be immature and juvenile at times, and he might be irritating, but he's a good man. And you love him. What more could I ask? And you might not be the agent who was assigned to my team without my permission, but you are still a good agent. You and DiNozzo, you have grown so much together and apart in the past few years. You have never been a disappointment, Ziva. Never to me, or anyone else at NCIS. Understand?"

She allowed a blush to creep across her cheeks as she looked down, smiling at her daughter as she stared up with wide eyes. The outer door opened, letting a gust of wind bluster through the corridor, and Abby slipped inside, followed by Sarah, Jenny and Ducky. "Are we ready?" She asked as the door closed. "Everyone else is."

"Ready." Ziva nodded, turning to Gibbs.

"Ready."

* * *

The sea breeze tousled his hair as he inhaled deeply and fidgeted with his bowtie. "I feel like Ducky in this." McGee cast a glance to his side, staring at Tony as he tried to adjust the tie.

"Nervous?"

Tony froze, turning slowly to McGee. "What reason would I have to be nervous?" The frown that creased his brow furrowed deeper when McGee shrugged.

"Well, you're, y'know, you. I always thought you didn't want to settle down."

"McGee, I settled down nearly two years ago. This just makes it official." He raised his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug.

"So, today you're just…making it official?"

"What's there to be scared of, McGee. I mean, I love her, she loves me, we have a beautiful daughter. We are a family."

He watched as his friend looked out across the fields of green oceans and blue skies. "Marriage changes things."

Tony snorted. "Y'know, McGee, people say it does, but I really, really doubt it. I think kids are what actually change things. Marriage? It's just a piece of paper and a couple of rings. I never want to be with another woman again. She's the only one I will ever want." He grinned, clamping his hand on McGee's shoulder. "You'll feel the same one day, McGee." A bugle called and they both turned to look behind them, down the aisle of marines, to see Gibbs walking with Ziva's arm through his. The lace of her dress hugged her figure in all the right places and Tony's heart skipped a couple of beats when the wind swept a few loose strands of hair across her face, pulling them up and twisting them into wild, spiralling curls that flew around her head. His eyes flicked to Abby as she followed, holding Evita in her arms as they walked out across the flight deck, in order to try and rein in his breathing, the sight of his fiancée – soon to be wife – in the wedding dress enough for his lungs to decide a rhythmic pattern of breaths unimportant. Sarah and Palmer walked parallel with Ducky and the Director, and Tony felt McGee shift uncomfortably at the sight of his sister with her arm in Palmer's, trying not to let a smirk touch the corner of his lips at his friend's clear discomfort. He focused his eyes back on Ziva and immediately realised that any attempt to slow his heart beat down and control his breathing was a waste – she was beautiful, and she always would be. It seemed to take her an age to reach him and by the time she stood next to him and Gibbs bowed his head before stepping back, he was getting impatient. As much silence as possible when stood on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier filled their ears and it took all of Tony's willpower to avert his eyes from Ziva, turning instead to face the chaplain.

* * *

"Ziva. My Ziva. Two years ago, I never thought about settling down. Family was a long way off. I had made mistakes in the few months prior and that had made it seem like any form of relationship was an impossibility, particularly with the woman I loved. Two weeks later and for ten minutes, sat at my desk, I could see it all, us, a little baby, a house. And I wanted it more than anything and knew I could not have it. Since we met, being around you has been…everything. I started getting into work earlier and leaving latter, just to spend more time with you. And as soon as I realised what I wanted, I could not get enough of you. I ended up going home with you, sleeping on your couch and making breakfast for you. I was prepared to do anything, just to spend an extra five minutes a day with you. A year and a half ago, you had Eva, and I vowed that I would spend the rest of my life loving and protecting her. Today, this is me vowing that I will love and protect you for the rest of eternity, or as long as we each live – I personally am hoping we'll make it to eternity, but science is against us on that." Tony grinned at her as she stared at him.

"You mentioned mistakes. I think we can both agree that we have each had our fair share. But I know there are three things in my life that will never, ever be considered mistakes. The first would be moving to America, meeting you and becoming your friend. You, and the rest of our family, taught me to investigate, and to question, and to laugh, and live, and love. Your friendship was more than I could ever imagine and when you left after the first time you turned up on my doorstep with a DVD and six-pack, demanding entrance, was the first time I had fallen asleep with a smile on my face since I was a young child. I think it was also the first time I had laughed so much in many, many years. The second thing in my life that I would never take back is Evita. Maybe circumstances were not ideal, but she is everything, and I would not change a thing about her, and I do not think you would either." She watched as Tony shook his head. "My third thing is you. Us. I cannot imagine a better man than you. You have saved me and protected me, fought with me and loved me, laughed with me and, on occasion, at me, you have shown me the whole world, and I owe you everything for that. In the past years that I have known you, I have become a better person from who I was before, and at first I resented that. I resented how soft I was becoming, weak. But then I realised that I was growing, and that these weaknesses were in fact strengths. I would not be who I am today without you, and I would probably not even be alive today without you. Thank you."

 **I do not like the vows.**

 **I went to a military wedding once, a long time ago, one of my father's childhood friends. I was very, very young and remember very little of it.**

 **I hate writing weddings. Actually, I just hate weddings. I try to block them out of my memory.**

 **I think this would probably be high on my list of places to get married if I actually ever wanted to get married and if I did not get seasick.**


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

**Well, here it is, the 24th chapter. And my, what a few months it has been. I have not been planning upon writing a sequel for this at all, but, as always, if inspiration strikes I might post something related to it.**

 **I have a little confession to make: I will be away tomorrow when you are expecting this chapter, although still able to read and reply to reviews, and I had the option of posting it today or the day after tomorrow. I did not want to keep you waiting, and although I like the routine of uploading one every three days, I feel that as it is the last chapter you may have it early.**

 **I would just like to thank everyone who reviewed for reviewing, particularly the guests to whom I had no way of replying and those of you who have had something to say every chapter, everything from a few words of encouragement to a more full review engaging in discussion. And to everyone who has read without making their presence known, I value your readership too – I do not mind that you have nothing to say, that you are reading it says enough.**

 **And so, for the last time in this fiction: on with the show…**

Chapter Twenty-Four

 ** _Monday, June 15th 2009_**

A man sat on the end of a jetty; his legs dangling in the water as he watched mother and daughter play in the lake surrounding the island. The child was the spitting image of her mother. Curly brown hair, almond-shaped chocolate eyes and golden skin. She could have been a clone. They had the same beautiful smile, and they shared a laugh that sounded like music. He had made it his job to make them laugh – it was the happiest sound in the world and he lived to hear it. He could not believe how lucky he was. They were his beautiful girls. The woman looked up and smiled at him when she felt his eyes on her back. "The others will be here soon." He called. "We need to be heading back."

"Dada!" The child squealed as her mother picked her up. "Ima!" Her favourite words. 'Dada' and 'Ima'.

Nobody would know he was her father to look at them separately, because, in truth, he was not – not biologically at least – but put them together and they were best of friends, thick as thieves, inseparable and unstoppable. He was her father, no matter what a DNA test said. Of course, one day she would realise that she looked nothing like him, had none of his physical traits and had some traits that did not come from her mother, but that day was long in the future, and they were prepared for it. They had told her the stories of a very special, brave soldier who was her mother's friend and who died whilst fighting to keep them safe, like she had been told the stories of the brave woman who died atop a rooftop, and the young girl who loved to sing and died at a café before her time. She was going to know her family history, the good and the bad. The man stood and walked over to the small sailing boat lashed to the other side of the jetty and began rigging the sails in preparation to leave the small island. The woman walked down the pier with the child wrapped in a towel, her own towel draped over her shoulder. "Dada! Dada!" She reached her chubby arms out and leaned towards him in the boat.

"Ah, come here my little Munchkin." He took her from her mother's arms and kissed her nose. "You're all wet!" He laughed when she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Did you enjoy your swim?" She nodded and giggled, kissing his nose and expecting a kiss to the nose in return. He complied, making her laugh harder, throwing her head back. "Are we going to go and find Grandpa Gibbs and Auntie Abby and Uncle McGee?" She laughed and squealed some more, squirming in his arms. "I'm not putting you down, Munchkin. If your Ima sees me put you down in the boat, she'll kill me."

"Not kill, Tony. Maim, maybe, but I would never kill you. You can come in useful for time to time."

* * *

Tony disembarked the boat, holding his hand out to help Ziva onto the jetty. She stepped up, Evita in her other arm, and pressed a kiss to his lips, leaning into his side as they walked towards the glass panelling of the lake house they had been staying in for the past two weeks. The front of the house was old, grey stone and dark woods framing the large, warm, inviting face of the homestead, whilst as the building moved further back it grew more modern, the single floor extension that reached to the waterline being encased in glass and affording a view into the open kitchen and sitting area. The front room of the house was an older, more intimate lounge, the dark wood theme from outside being carried through with deep red soft furnishings. A large fire took pride of place in that room, a fire they had not had a chance to make use of, along with the rest of that room, due to the heat wave that had kept them outside – on the boat and on the beach of the island – and in the cooler, more open areas of the house towards the back.

Gibbs sat in one of the white leather armchairs of the sitting area, looking up from his newspaper. "I assumed that the armchair was safe to sit on. I avoided the couch."

Tony cringed. "I would say that was a wise choice, Boss, but, uh…"

Ziva glared at Tony as Gibbs leapt up, not bothering to keep the disgust from his face. "The bar stools are safe. I would avoid the bar itself. I was about to disinfect it when you arrived this morning." He had agreed to drive up to the lake house with Evita earlier than the others for them after Tony had sent a desperate phone call home whilst he tried to calm a tearful Ziva. The others would be driving up for the afternoon before leaving again after a meal to make up for the lack thereof at their actual wedding.

"Can't you just use a bed like normal people?" Gibbs shuddered, wanting to change topic as quickly as possible.

The younger man frowned, tilting his head to the side before looking to his wife. "We could have used the bed? I mean, you can actually do it _in_ bed? I thought that was just a myth. Maybe we'll have to go and try it: Gibbs, can you look after Eva for a bit, maybe sail her 'round the lake for an hour or two? We'll leave a note on the door for when the others arrive." He grinned, hiding behind Ziva and Eva when Gibbs moved towards him, brandishing his head-slapping hand. "I'm joking. We did actually use the bed, Gibbs. At least once a day." He said proudly. "Most days twice."

Ziva rolled her eyes as Tony continued to enjoy the red tint that coloured Gibbs cheeks. "I will start cleaning before everyone else arrives." She handed her daughter to Tony, protecting him from Gibbs as she walked over to the kitchen.

"It's our honeymoon, Gibbs. Cleaning should be the least of her priorities." He watched the guilt that flickered across his boss's face.

Gibbs sighed. "Ziva, I'll do it." He made his way over to her, removing the disinfectant she had pulled out of one of the cupboards from her hand. She raised her eyebrows in question but he shrugged, waving her off. "I was young once, too. And I've been on a few honeymoons."

"Thank you, Gibbs." She smiled, touching her lips to his cheeks briefly before almost bouncing over to Tony. He chuckled as he watched her, almost 100% certain that he had never seen her 'bounce'.

* * *

He pulled the bottle of champagne out of the cool box that was sat behind him and sat it in the sand before pulling out two flutes. He smiled at his wife and she leant forwards and pressed her lips to his, slipping the bottle gently out of his hand as he went to open it and shaking her head. "Tony, do you think, maybe, you will be able to last another year's prohibition?"

"Why?" He asked cautiously. They had consumed no alcohol since before the wedding; every time a bottle was produced it was quickly forgotten about.

"Because it is not good for the baby." She shrugged, as if the news she had just delivered was not life changing at all. She had said it as if it were something she had put on the shopping list to get the next time they were near a greengrocers. It took a moment for him to process the words that she had spoken, but when he did his eyes lit up like a Hanukkah menorah.

"Baby?"

"Well. I think that Evita should have a little brother or sister." She shuffled so she was wrapped in his arms, her back leaning against his chest and her head tucked under his chin. They sat in silence as they watched the sun setting over the lake.

"You realise that it is exactly two years ago today that you found out about Eva?"

"I found out two weeks ago this time. I wanted to wait until today to tell you." She chuckled softly as she looked up into his eyes in the last orange light that was reflecting off of the water's flat, mirror-like surface.

"How did you manage to keep quiet all this time?"

"I do not know." She admitted. "It has been very hard. I almost told you on our wedding night, but then I knew that it would ruin the surprise."

"Does anybody else know?"

"No. Not yet. I wanted you to be the first to know. Abby and Jenny have suspicions, but they do not know for certain." He grinned down at her and placed his hand softly, lovingly, on her stomach. They stayed like that for an hour, watching as the stars came out, twinkling in the inky purple of the night sky. The moon reflected off the water, creating a bright, glowing path. "It is beautiful." She murmured.

"Mmm. There's got to be a word for the moon reflecting like that."

"The Turkish call it gumusservi."

"Why don't we have a word for something so beautiful?" He wondered out loud, keeping his voice low.

"I do not know, My Love." She whispered and shivered a little. Once the sun set it had grown cold quickly.

"Chilly?"

"Slightly." She shrugged. "Any ideas how to warm back up?"

"Well, there is one that springs to mind…" He started pressing kisses along her collarbone as she turned in his arms and he carefully laid her back in the sand. "It's not quite the crystal white sands of your homeland…"

"I think it is perfect." She smiled, locking her eyes with his and running a hand through his hair. One last thought floated through her mind before all she could think about was her husband…

A lot can change in 24 months. Lives can be lost, new ones can be created. Friendships can grow and evolve. Families can morph and change. Things can go wrong, but they can also go right.

Two years is a long time…

 **The bit with Gibbs is my favourite - it was written later, almost as an afterthought, and I was going to not include it at all, but I am glad I did, because it was a lot of fun to write, and I like the softer side of Gibbs.**

 **All good things must come to an end, and so do all bad things, and we have reached 24 chapters. I have enjoyed it. I hope you all have too. It has been a pleasure, as always. I hope to write for you again soon.**

 **I think I have an idea for a new multi chapter, but I do not know if it will work. I am slowly plodding away at it but so far I have half of one A4 page written, and it is not that good. It will be more case-y as well. If I do go ahead with it, I will probably get the majority written up before I post it.**

 **Until the next time…**


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